The Road to Hell
by brigand
Summary: This is Jack's story of happiness and heartbreak along the road of her life (starts with Dark Fury and goes through and past CoR). Note: Follows canon, but Jack and Kyra are not the same person in this fic.
1. Chapter One

**Title: The Road to Hell – Chapter 0ne**

**Summary: **This chapter begins with a COR:DF recap from Riddick's POV and rolls into Jack, Riddick and Imam escaping from Antonia Chillingsworth's ship.

SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury, please note that this story (this chapter in particular) draws heavily upon the events in the anime and includes MAJOR SPOILERS. Also, please forgive me if I take some artistic license in the descriptions.

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Riddick, Jack, etc. in this story (and the events depicted in Dark Fury and recounted herein) do not belong to me and I mean no infringement upon anyone's rights of ownership to those characters. Any original characters are mine, so please ask if you plan to reuse them.

**Feedback: **I would love any and all feedback- positive and negative. Let me know if you spot any grammar oversights. As for characterization and tone, I think I've gotten pretty close, but I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks.

**Notes:** This looks to be a fairly long story. I have already written several chapters and I still have a lot of ground to cover. I plan to stick pretty close to canon, but I may tweak certain occurrences as needed. This is my attempt to fill in some of the gaps between Pitch Black and Chronicles of Riddick (and perhaps beyond). We all know where Riddick went in the five intervening years, but what happened to Jack? This story is my way of explaining what got her from "cute kid" to convicted murderess.

**Chapter One**

The big, aquiline ship hung silently, peacefully in the depths of space, but its outer peace belied the turmoil inside. Deep within the ship, a battle raged and it looked like a single man might emerge the victor over the crowd of tough-looking characters who had attacked him. Several of their number floated limply in the null gravity of the large chamber, blood oozing from mortal wounds. The big man battling them had yet to sustain a substantial injury.

Had he not been locked in mortal combat, Riddick might have reflected with bitter, ironic amusement on the present situation. He, Jack and Imam had escaped one of the nastiest circumstances he had ever experienced only to find themselves thrust into one that had the potential to be just as nasty. Oh well, that was pretty typical of his luck lately.

When Chillingsworth's ship speared their drifting skiff with a tow cable, Riddick had identified himself as Johns, hoping to avoid any trouble with the mercs on board. It hadn't worked. _Probably used a voiceprint or something,_ he'd reasoned as he realized they weren't buying his story.

As soon as the skiff had come to rest in the hangar, Riddick had gone into action. Mercs had pulled him in like this before, and he knew a few tricks to confound the sensors that would be scanning the ship. His little ploy with the skiff's fire suppression system actually seemed to be working. Then Junner, Chillingsworth's guard dog, grabbed Jack. From there, everything went straight to hell. In an amazingly short time, Riddick knew he would have to surrender.

When the bastard pressed the blade attached to his gun against Jack's forehead and tightened his finger on the trigger, one cold part of Riddick's mind told him to leave her to her fate. She was a liability that Riddick couldn't afford. However, the rest of him told the cold part to fuck off-they weren't getting one of his people. Besides, he was completely fed up with monsters fucking with him and he was ready to give back a little of the punishment he'd taken on that damned hellhole of a planet. The way Riddick saw it, one monster was as good as any other in the face of his retribution, and Chillingsworth and her bunch certainly qualified. Plus, he was decidedly eager to wipe the superior sneer off Junner's refined Asian features-permanently.

So, Riddick surrendered; there would be a better moment if he just waited for it. That was one of the things he had learned was the key to survival in the slam-you had to pick your moments. If you were patient enough and managed to keep your ass alive, the moment always came.

One of Chillingsworth's mercs shackled Riddick's hands and feet then strapped him to an upright gurney. The corpulent merc tasked with strapping him down exhaled in his face, convincing him that one of the fat guy's duties was cleaning the latrine- with his tongue. The merc took obvious pleasure in tightening the restraints beyond the point of comfort. Riddick realized Bad-Breath was trying to get a rise out of him, but he ignored the disgusting man. This was definitely not the moment.

Riddick heard Chillingsworth, an elegantly lovely, older woman, command her men to take him to her private quarters. _Now, what the hell does she have in mind?_ he wondered as they wheeled him down a long corridor with Jack and Imam pacing his dolly. Racks of cryochambers filled with mercenaries, the men and women who made up Chillingsworth's crew, lined one side of the hall. On the other side, there were additional cryochambers where the mercs stored their captured bounties for transport. _Mercs and cons on ice,_ Riddick observed with wry amusement at the image of large men on skates that his thought conjured.

As they reached a T-intersection in the passage, Jack, in her typical tough-kid role, leaned close to Riddick and spoke in a conspiratorial voice: "So, what's the plan? Not like we haven't been through worse. Way I see it, we…HEY!"

One of the mercs grabbed Jack by the back of the neck. "This is where we get off, Princess," he snarled at her as he dragged her in the opposite direction from which they wheeled Riddick.

"I won't leave you, Riddick!" she yelled back, struggling with her captor as they forcefully dragged her away. "I'll find you!"

_Damn, the kid has nerve and she don't back down,_ Riddick marveled at her unflinching bravado in the face of all that had happened. Unbidden, a thought crossed his mind, _She's gonna be one hell of a woman someday. If she doesn't manage to get herself killed first, that is._

Once he was deposited in her chambers, Chillingsworth released him from the gurney and then escorted him on a tour of the macabre museum, which she called her 'conservatory'. As she guided him through the maze of grotesque 'statuary', the woman ranted about art and beauty. It was obvious to Riddick that she was completely insane and he didn't hesitate to point that fact out to her. She, then, took a perverse delight in pointing out that the figures on display were living breathing beings in a form of suspended animation. He realized at that moment just what she had in mind for him. _No fucking way, bitch!_ he thought fiercely, but he played along with the little combat spectacle she outlined. _Just wait for the time to strike._

Not that he had much choice, even if he didn't want to play nice. Chillingsworth dangled Jack and Imam in front of him like so much disposable bait. Riddick felt outrage rise within him to see them that way: their feet precariously balanced atop a pair of large metal spheres, collars around their necks ready to choke the life from them if they fell from their perches. _Still not the right moment, but it'll come. Soon._

Even the lethal, little present Junner implanted in his neck, in a feeble attempt to grant Chillingsworth control over him, didn't particularly bother Riddick. _Hell, if the bitch is willing to give me explosives to work with, who am I to complain. I know I'll find a good use for that bit of nastiness before we're through._

* * *

Chillingsworth casually tossed his shiv at his feet. _And here I though you were planning on me fightin' bare-handed. You just made your fatal mistake, old woman. Givin' me a weapon... sloppy... sloppy and arrogant. Gonna make you pay for that. _

As he retrieved the blade from where the woman had tossed it at his feet, Riddick eyed Junner, standing behind Chillingsworth with a look of distaste on his elegant features. _I owe you one for Jack, asshole,_ Riddick thought as he twisted the knife allowing the light to play along its edge.

"Next time you see this, I'm gonna put it through your eye," he promised, snarling at Junner. The other man simply looked at him with an expression of extreme distaste.

Riddick was eager to get away from the crazy woman who made his skin crawl with her unending rambling. Hands still shackled, he slipped the goggles off his eyes, and then leapt, panther-like, into the pit, taking one of Chillingsworth's goons with him. _Let's see what she thinks of that, _he thought with grim amusement. However, before the merc could even react, Chillingsworth released her little pets and turned off the lights. _Apparently, not much,_ he realized, as did the unfortunate merc. The dance had begun.

The two strange creatures that entered the arena looked like some sort of upright squid with light glowing intermittently from their arms and central body. The pair advanced on Riddick, their tentacles waving menacingly in a deadly ballet. The things were beautiful in a disturbing way, but Riddick didn't have time to admire their beauty. His primary concern was determining the most efficient method to kill them without them returning the favor.

The first one made quick work of the merc, dissolving him with some sort of venom injected with a specialized chitinous tentacle. Riddick bobbed and swerved within the arena waiting for an opening. Their movements seemed almost random at first glance; however, as he studied them, he began to see patterns in their actions.

Riddick made a couple of cautious attacks, testing their defenses. On his second foray, the left one grabbed him and tossed him backward into one of the spheres. _Nope, that ain't it,_ he thought as he recovered then continued stalking. He heard a choked scream and realized that his impact must have knocked away the support beneath Jack.

Regret flared, but he pushed it away as the creatures bore down on him. _Sorry, kid, no time now. Just hang on a little longer._ He kept his focus fully on the twin menaces in front of him; although, he felt a burst of relief as he heard the rumble of Imam walking the other sphere over to support Jack.

Riddick circled the arena, eyeing the deadly creatures. He recalled the name of their species-shryll. He'd once encountered a prison warden who had a pair of the things. That sadistic bastard had liked to let them loose from time to time, just to watch the ensuing chaos. Riddick had taken great delight in feeding the warden to his own pets before departing the prison. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending upon your point of view, he hadn't actually fought the shryll that time so he had only vague ideas of their weaknesses.

One of the shryll took an interest in Jack and Imam, placed so temptingly at the end of the arena. Light scintillated down its arms in anticipation of the kill as it moved toward them. Imam kicked the ball at the creature, knocking the shryll away from them. As their support rolled from beneath them, Jack grabbed hold of Imam and the cleric grasped the choke-cord above his neck. He was using only his arms to support both his and Jack's weight. Riddick knew the man would not be able to hold them for long.

Instinctively, he launched himself toward the pair, now swinging several feet above the arena floor. He sprang atop the momentarily stunned shryll then immediately kicked off once more. His arc carried him past the dangling Jack and Imam, and his shiv flashed out, slicing cleanly through both cords before he tucked into a somersault and landed lightly behind them. There was a crash as they hit the floor, followed by a scuffle as they tried to stand in the dark arena. "Get on your feet," Riddick commanded, quickly moving between them and the circling monsters.

"I cannot see," Imam declared from behind Riddick as he regained his feet.

"You don't want to," Riddick hissed back as he focused his attention on the two deadly creatures.

He continued his lethal waltz, deliberately drawing the creatures away from his companions. Ducking and weaving like a cobra, he waited for an opening. Suddenly, one creature flowed forward and struck at him with its venom-arm. He lifted his arms, maneuvering the manacles to block the blow. As the venom-arm impacted the restraints, the force of the shryll's strike shattered them, at last freeing his hands so he could really get down to business. "You wanna go, let's go," he purred to the beasts as they whirled around him.

He lunged forward-his knife flashing-and made contact with one of the tentacles. The razor-sharp blade cut through the soft flesh as though it were water and the severed arm dropped to the ground. Riddick was immediately moving again with preternatural speed. Slipping away from the slashing attack of the venom-arm, he glided to the back of the arena where one of the huge balls had come to rest. One of the shryll began drifting toward Jack and Imam once more. Riddick launched the ball at the creature then ran after it. The giant sphere slammed the shryll hard against the wall.

_There!_ He flashed forward as the creature dropped its guard slightly. The impact of the ball had thrown it off-balance and Riddick quickly took the opening. His blade slashed a tentacle, severing it, and then he was at the creature's midsection. With lightning speed he thrust at the thing's center, going for what he hoped was a vital organ. The creature lashed at him and shrieked an alien scream as his shiv slipped through its gelatinous layers, slicing the fibrous bundle that served as its brain.

Riddick's momentum carried him past the creature. He rolled gracefully as he hit the ground and came up into a crouch as the first creature collapsed. His eyes narrowed as the other creature danced away from him and its dead companion. Suddenly, the shryll streaked back toward him with mind-numbing speed. It wrapped tentacles around both of Riddick's wrists and lifted, causing him to drop his knife. The venom-arm zeroed in on him and the creature glowed with eagerness.

"Riddick! No!" Jack gasped and darted forward before Imam could stop her. She picked up a long piece of severed tentacle from the first beast and whipped it around the venom arm. Throwing her weight into the pull, she heaved backward. Abruptly, the creature thrashed a tentacle at Jack, tossing her to the ground not far from Riddick's knife. The big man roared and forcefully jerked his arms down. His abrupt movement tore the soft flesh of the shryll, ripping away one of its appendages.

Jack grabbed the knife at her feet. "HERE!" Riddick shouted and she nimbly tossed the blade into his waiting hand. Riddick's shiv exploded into motion, severing another tentacle and then skewering the creature through its core.

The lights came on as the creature collapsed with the knife still imbedded in its heart. Riddick dropped to his knees, averting his eyes from the sudden illumination. He moved the spectrum goggles into place to block the glaring light then stood, positioning himself protectively between Chillingsworth and his companions.

"Bravo!" purred Chillingsworth, standing and moving toward the edge of the balcony, as she applauded him. Riddick noted that she had forgotten the remote detonator for the explosive device that Junner had placed in his neck.

While the mad woman gloated above him, Riddick growled to Imam, "The shiv…"

Imam looked at him, clearly not understanding. In a low voice, Riddick commanded, "Give me the knife."

"Such a thorough performance," she commended as though she'd spent a night at the theater instead of watching people battle for their lives. "It leaves only one question."

"I got a feeling you ain't gonna like it," Jack murmured from behind him.

_I got a feeling you're right, kid,_ he agreed with her silently. Imam tossed him the knife.

"How am I ever going to have you mounted… to do it justice?"

Upon recovering his weapon, Riddick placed the finely honed point to his own throat. The woman's shocked expression at his-obviously unexpected-move amused him. _Bitch thinks I'm gonna kill myself to avoid becoming one of her exhibits,_ he thought unsympathetically. _Don't flatter yourself, Chillingsworth. It takes more than your antics to take down Richard B. Riddick._

Riddick make a short, quick incision in the side of his neck above the tiny bomb. He dug his fingers into the wound, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain of the invasion. Grasping the tiny bundle of plastic and metal, he pulled sharply to extract it from his body.

"You gonna keep that?" Jack quipped with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Get down!" Riddick commanded as Chillingsworth-finally realizing what he had done-dove for the remote. He tossed the device at the rear wall of the arena just as Chillingsworth pressed the detonator button. The blast tore through the alumisteel wall as though it were paper, opening a hole large enough to drive a good-sized vehicle through-should one have the notion.

The close-proximity blast threw Riddick off his feet. Jack, ever faithful, tugged on his arm to help him up, and then the two of them quickly followed Imam through the gaping hole. Not pausing to reflect on the fact that the blast, which created the opening, could have originated inside his body, Riddick promptly led the way into the belly of the merc ship.

* * *

They raced through the access corridors, many of which were not configured for artificial gravity; however, Riddick soon realized that there was no way the three of them could outrun their pursuers.

"We cannot stop," Imam said desperately as Riddick slowed.

"We're not outrunning this thing," he stated flatly, stopping to let Jack catch up. They heard sounds of pursuit behind them. Something big was coming, and it was coming fast. "Not the three of us."

"What! I can keep up," Jack said valiantly as she panted for breath; her limbs trembled slightly from the exertion. She hadn't eaten or rested properly in days, and it was beginning to take its toll.

"Maybe someday," he told her with admiration for her tenacity. _Hell, even Imam can't match my pace. I've gotta do something or we're all gonna die._

Hastily formulating a plan, Riddick told them to hide until the danger had passed and then make their way as quickly as possible to the flight deck. He would lead the creature away so that it was safe for them. Without any further discussion, he made a small cut on his arm and dashed down the corridor, leaving a blood trail for whatever was chasing them.

"We'll wait for you, Riddick," Jack called after him.

_No, shit, kid, I'm your goddamn pilot,_ he thought with a flash of wry humor. A part of him was touched by her sincere proclamation, but he didn't need her doing something stupid that would get her killed. "Follow, Imam," he commanded firmly.

Riddick led his pursuers through another series of corridors before exiting into a larger room partially filled with a maze of piping: _Damn, no way out._ He could hear the hunters' shouts and knew he had to do something fast. Stripping his blood smeared tank top over his head, he tossed it to the ground and hastily ascended into the tangle of pipes shrouding the ceiling. He crouched there, silent and unmoving… waiting.

Moments later, a small cluster of mercs burst into the room and looked around in confusion as they realized that there was no other way out of the area. One of the mercs bent down and picked up Riddick's discarded tank top. Riddick grinned ferally, _Took the bait!_

A second merc, this one apparently somewhat smarter than his comrade, whirled on the first. "Don't touch that!" he commanded belatedly. "Shit!"

"What, Toombs?" merc-one asked, looking up in confusion from the crumpled bit of fabric in his hand.

At that moment, a large creature, which was primarily a giant gaping mouth on a pair of mechanical legs, hove into view. It seemed to taste the air with several stubby tentacles inside its maw and then charged the ill-fated mercs. From his vantage point in the overhead piping, Riddick saw the smart merc, Toombs, turn and blast a hole in one of the pipes. He dove into the murky water without looking back at his former companions, being demolished by the beast. Sensing part of its prey escaping, the monster snapped at the pipe. Its bite removed a large section of the conduit and foul water began to pour into the room, but Riddick saw nothing to indicate that it had captured it's quarry. Apparently, Toombs had already slithered away into the bowels of the ship.

The creature stumbled back, still searching for prey. It tilted its maw slightly upward. As its eyes rose toward the ceiling, Riddick struck. Leaping down onto the creature, he plunged his shiv through its eye and drove the blade backward until it sliced into the monster's tiny brain. With a roar, the beast staggered and then buckled onto the floor.

Riddick's shirt was now soaked with the disgusting water from the pipe and thoroughly coated with gore from the various combatants. He picked it up and grimaced at the smell that assaulted him. "I ain't putting that back on," he growled, his lips twitching with sardonic humor. Riddick located a merc who had been tossed atop a pipe and swiftly appropriated the dead man's shirt.

Without hesitation, he took the fastest route he could find to the flight deck. He had to duck merc patrols a couple of times, but eventually, he exited into the large shuttle-filled room. Unfortunately, Junner had beaten him there and been hard at work. The elegant merc held Jack by the throat in a vice grip as she struggled vainly to get free. Riddick saw her struggles begin to weaken as Junner squeezed the life from her.

_Doesn't this bastard know when to quit?_ he thought as he moved into the large room.

"Let her go. It's me you're after," Riddick snarled at the other man and he released Jack. Junner turned to face him as Riddick stalked menacingly across the space between them. "You wanna shot at the title?" he taunted and then he began circling to try to put the light behind him. Junner's answer was to slip out of his long coat and move into the circling pattern as well.

Riddick drew his shiv from his belt and it flashed in the brightly lit room as he shifted it from one hand to the other. Junner released a catch on his gun then withdrew a long bayonet sword. He carelessly kicked the firearm portion of his weapon behind him and advanced on Riddick with his sword extended in a flawless fencing stance.

Riddick crouched, then charged, thrusting with his knife. He searched for a weakness in the other man's defense but was unable to break through. Junner tried a few experimental thrusts, which Riddick parried easily. They circled one another warily, neither giving ground. Riddick saw Junner tense and knew the attack was coming. The man swung his sword expertly, stabbing where he knew his opponent's head to be, but Riddick ducked and whirled away, blindingly fast. Almost as quickly, Junner slammed sideways-crashing into Riddick-using his weight to send the shiv spinning through the air.

Riddick grabbed Junner's wrist and twisted, applying pressure, which caused Junner's grip to relax. The sword went flying and the two men laid into one another with their fists. Weaving and pounding, they circled; neither man was willing to give an inch. Finally, Junner landed a lucky kick that sent Riddick flying backward into some machinery.

Riddick recovered quickly and the two squared off once more. Junner retrieved his sword, then stepped forward confidently, moving between Riddick and his knife. Stooping with liquid grace, Riddick grasped a cable snaking across the floor. He twisted his hand dexterously, forming a loop in the thick cord; then, he lightly tossed the loop around Junner's neck. Riddick pulled sharply on the cable tightening it around the other man's throat, choking him. As the noose tightened, Junner sneered at Riddick and swung his sword almost casually, slicing through the thick cord with measured ease. However, shock soon replaced the arrogant smirk as the purpose of the cable, which he had so nonchalantly cut, became apparent. Then, all was black.

_My turn, asshole. Time to say goodnight,_ Riddick thought fiercely as he slipped his goggles up and attacked in one sure motion.

Seconds later, the ship's computer brought up the emergency lighting, bathing the bay in an eerie red glow. Riddick snarled at Junner as he collapsed backward-dead-with the shiv wedged into his eye socket.

"I told ya that was comin'," Riddick informed the corpse. He walked slowly toward a large elegant shuttle to one side of the flight deck.

"Wh-where are you going?" Imam asked anxiously from where he was assisting Jack to her feet.

"Gonna prep this ship and get off this heap," Riddick said as he sauntered toward the indicated vessel.

"So _we_ can escape?" Imam queried, uncertainty strong in his voice.

Without turning, Riddick gestured impatiently for them to follow. Irritated, Riddick strode the rest of the way to the shuttle and opened the lock. As the doors yawned open, he glanced back at his companions. _Fuck, holy man, you think I'd go through all that… then just leave you!_ he thought angrily. _You still don't have a clue who I am!_

Suddenly, Antonia Chillingsworth stepped out of the shuttle with an old-fashioned pistol leveled at Riddick. Her clothing was disarrayed and her once sleek hair was wild about her face. Her eyes were glassy and flashed with an insane fury as she moved forward. The woman's finger tensed on the trigger and the docking bay echoed with a loud boom as she fired the gun. Riddick threw himself to the side but was not _quite_ quick enough. The bullet grazed his shoulder, knocking him off his feet.

Chillingsworth snarled with mad glee. "Back to Hell with you, you bloody, stinking savage!" she cursed as she carefully aimed at his chest.

_Well, Riddick, you always knew it had to end sometime,_ he thought as he tensed for the shot. A second gunshot roared through the chamber and he flinched involuntarily. As Antonia Chillingsworth dropped at his feet, he realized the second shot hadn't come from her gun. "Im—?" he started in confusion as he pulled himself to his feet. Riddick hadn't thought the cleric capable of such an act of violence. Then she stepped into view-Junner's smoking rifle held firmly in her hands-and the truth hit Riddick.

"Yeah, we made it," Jack told him.

"Awfully uncivilized thing, you just did there, Jack," he said with a carefully neutral expression as he was slammed with unexpected emotions: shock, gratitude, admiration, and—oddly—a hint of regret.

* * *

The shuttle rocketed out of the docking bay and Riddick quickly plotted a course away from Chillingsworth's ship. The indicators on the proximity readout showed the larger ship receding away from them and did not indicate any signs of pursuit. He did a rundown of the ship's specs and was grimly pleased to note that the star drive was intact and working. He'd been half-afraid that Chillingsworth might have disabled it before she ambushed them.

He laid in a short star-jump in a random direction and then placed the ship on autopilot to carry out his instructions. The quick jump would help eliminate possibilities of pursuit and would give him some time to think before he plotted a final course and engaged the cryosystem.

Riddick looked at the small figure who was huddled in the co-pilot's seat beside him. She stared out the window with a haunted expression. Shortly after they had boarded, while Riddick focused on their escape, Imam had tried to comfort her, murmuring words of encouragement and telling her that Allah would forgive. Jack had shaken him off and climbed into the chair beside Riddick to stare into the depths of space. She hadn't moved in the past fifteen minutes.

In the back of the shuttle, Riddick heard Imam praying – an omnipresent murmur to which he had grown accustomed during their flight from the planet before Chillingsworth picked them up. _Pointless, holy-man,_ he thought, but the sound had become vaguely reassuring nonetheless.

"Y'okay, kid?" Riddick asked off-handedly, turning his chair to face Jack. She finally tore her eyes away from the blackness of deep space to look at him. Riddick slipped the goggles up to his forehead and returned her regard. It occurred to him just how close Chillingsworth had come to killing them-hi-and he again felt a wash of gratitude for the remarkable young woman beside him. She briefly stared at him with stricken eyes and then dropped her gaze to her hands, clasped tightly in her lap.

"I had to do it, Riddick," Jack said flatly.

"Yeah, kid, you did," he replied, leaning toward her.

"She'd have killed you and then us. She was crazy."

He suddenly felt intense emotion coursing through him once more: compassion, protectiveness, and the desire to comfort. These sensations were new to Riddick, or at least so long out of use as to seem new. He realized that they were entangled with Carolyn Fry's sacrifice and the things he'd experienced on that accursed planet. However, they seemed to have been dramatically amplified by the incidents they had just left behind on Chillingsworth's ship. "Yeah, Jack, she was," he agreed.

"Then why do I feel so awful?" she asked, choking on a sob. She raised her eyes to his face and a single hot tear streaked its way down the side of her nose to catch at the corner of her mouth. Jack let out a long, shuddering sigh and leaned slightly forward in the chair, resting her head in her hands.

Riddick reached out to the girl beside him. He rested his hand on her stubbly head and it hit him again just how young-how vulnerable-she really was. Jack slowly looked up at him; her eyes glittered with tears. Suddenly, she moved forward. Before he knew what was happening, she was on his lap with her head burrowed into his chest and her thin arms around his waist.

Jack's sudden movement caught Riddick by surprise. He patted her awkwardly unsure of just what to do, but then he felt her shudder against him. His arms wrapped tightly around her as the sobs began in earnest. She wept deep, soul-wracking sobs that she had obviously been holding in since they escaped the planet - an attempt to be tough, to prove she could keep pace with the infamous Richard B. Riddick.

Riddick nestled his cheek atop the stubbly head and gently rocked Jack while she cried. He cradled her small form while he softly stroked her back, soothing and reassuring her as her grief spent itself. As he held her, Riddick felt the bond growing between him and this waif who had killed to save him-a link of kindred spirits joined by tragedy and despair. Also in those few moments, as the newly reawakened humanity in him sang in answer to the connection he felt with Jack, he made an excruciating decision: he had to leave her behind.

* * *

Eventually, Jack's tears subsided and she rested peacefully in his arms. She smoothed her cheek against his chest and inhaled deeply then sat up with one small hand resting on his shoulder. As Riddick watched her intently, she forced the cocksure, tough-kid mask back into place, covering the vulnerability that had been there only moments before. A bitter knowing smile, which seemed out of place on such a youthful face, crept across her features.

"Sorry for the meltdown there, Riddick," she said sheepishly. "Didn't mean to turn into a fucking baby on ya."

"S'allright, Jack." Riddick squeezed her knee reassuringly. "Happens to the best of us."

When he squeezed her knee, Jack realized just where she was and a flush stole across her face. She quickly scrambled out of his lap and stood in front of him, fidgeting. "Goddamn, Riddick, sorry I was blubbering all over ya like that… I mean… And then me climbing on ya and such… Jeez, what you must think of the fucking 'little kid'…"

"Jack, stop," he commanded, leaning toward her, his liquid-silver eyes locked to her bright-green ones. "You've been through hell and back on that damn planet, then with those fucking mercs. You took a human life today and that's not nothing. You have a right to a little 'meltdown' after all that. It's what makes you human."

"I don't see you or Imam bawling like a fucking two-year-old," she snapped.

"Well, the holy-man has his God to keep him steady. And me, well…" he gave her a feral grin and shrugged as he let the sentence trail off. Jack knew that he was intimating that he wasn't human, but in that moment, she realized that she'd never met anyone _more_ human than the big man in front of her.

On the planet, he had transfixed Jack and she'd quickly moved to emulate him in hopes of getting him to notice her. The couple of days, which the group of survivors had spent working on the skiff, had seen her crush increase tenfold. Then he'd gone and rescued her: first from the awful things on the planet and then from the awful humans on Chillingsworth's ship. Jack now discovered that the emotions she had for him had subtly altered during the past few days from a schoolgirl crush to something deeper and more profound. The intensity of them almost overwhelmed her. She realized that what she felt for Richard B. Riddick, a convicted murderer and wanted man, was stronger than anything she'd felt for another human being in her thirteen or so years of life.

Impulsively, Jack leaned over and hugged Riddick tightly, inhaling his dark musky scent to help lock this moment in her memory. He returned her embrace awkwardly, she noticed, but still he returned it. "Thanks, Riddick, for not being an asshole," she breathed into his ear then released him.

He looked at her with a bemused smile for half a moment then said simply, sincerely, "You're welcome, kid."

Three little words, yet they washed over her, reassuring her. She felt the emotional weight behind them and it hit her that Riddick really did care what happened to her. The events of the past few days flashed through her mind, reminding just how many times, in such a short period, he'd saved her life. She was suddenly glad that she had shot the Chillingsworth bitch. She felt fiercely protective of Riddick, and it occurred to her that she would gladly kill again for the man in front of her.

Jack sat back down in the copilot's seat and grinned at him to let him know that she'd made it through her crisis. Riddick grinned back then turned to the controls. As she watched his hands moving over the instrumentation, Jack wondered if what she was feeling was the sort of thing normal families felt. Was this what it meant to have a big brother? She wasn't sure. She'd never had a big brother or for that matter, a normal family. The truth was, she didn't care; she knew how much Riddick meant to her and that was all that mattered.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary: **This chapter continues the journey to New Mecca.

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Riddick, Jack, etc. in this story do not belong to me and I mean no infringement upon anyone's rights of ownership to those characters.

**Chapter Two**

Riddick watched Jack out of the corner of his eye and felt oddly at peace. He didn't feel exactly redeemed; the guilt when his mind drifted to Fry was still too sharp. However, he was certain of one thing; he wasn't going to let her sacrifice be in vain. She'd died to save them from that planet, and Jack had become a symbol of that sacrifice to him. He vowed to himself that he'd give her a chance at a happy life if it were within his power; however, he was certain leaving the kid behind was going to tear his heart.

As Riddick covertly watched her and pondered how best to help her, she suddenly frowned and started fidgeting again. Riddick noticed her growing discomfort and then was shocked when a look of revulsion crossed her face: _Where did that come from?_ She rubbed her arms and looked at him with a frown. His brow furrowed slightly at her and he asked flatly, "Is there a problem, Jack?"

"Yeah! I don't wanna go into cryo like this," she said emphatically, gesturing at the grime coating her. "I feel like the bottom of a miner's boot! I never knew it was possible to be this filthy. I could totally use a shower."

The absurdity of her statement, in light of everything that had gone on in the past several days, struck a note with the big man. Riddick leaned back in his chair and laughed loudly with barks of amusement directed at the ceiling of the cockpit. An odd sense of relief-mingled with sheer amazement at the tenacity of this 13-year-old kid, who was now glaring at him with her fist on her hip-washed over him.

Imam looked up at them, startled from his prayers by the unexpected sound coming from Riddick. "Is something wrong, Mr. Riddick?" he implored, looking from one to the other with such puzzlement that Riddick only laughed harder. "Jack?"

"And what, may I ask, is so fucking funny?" Jack demanded as she whacked his knee with her fist. Turning to Imam, she tried to explain, "I just told him that I need a shower and he started braying like that."

Jack continued glaring at Riddick, but he could tell by the twinkle in her emerald eyes that she wasn't serious about her anger. "Quit laughing, you big lug!" Jack commanded, leaning toward him and shoving both shoulders with her small hands.

Riddick regained control of his sense of humor and a sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He glanced quickly to a small, sliding door toward the rear of the cabin between two cryotubes. His eyes narrowed slightly and a wicked grin split his face.

"Riddick, what are you planning?" she said eyeing him suspiciously and taking a small step away with her hand raised. He moved lightning fast, scooped her unceremoniously over his shoulder, and started carrying her toward the small door.

"RIDDIIICK!" she shrieked while wiggling and pounding ineffectually on his back. "Put me down, Riddick. This isn't funny!

"Imam, help!" she implored, but the dark-skinned man simply smiled serenely at her and gave a small shrug.

"Be still," Riddick commanded, and she stopped struggling but not before whacking him once more for good measure. Riddick grinned at her spunk, then swung her lightly down and set her on her feet in front of the door with his hands resting on her shoulders.

"What the fuck is this?" she demanded mock-fiercely.

He leaned past her and slid the door open to reveal a small but surprisingly well-stocked sonic fresher unit. "You said you wanted a shower," he smirked at her puzzled look of wonderment. "Long range shuttle," he continued. "Designed for multi-day missions out of cryo. Plus, I think we happened on ol' Chillingsworth's personal shuttle, so…"

He waved his hand in invitation. "Riddick, you're the best!" she giggled delightedly and then surprised him with a spontaneous hug, before disappearing into the small bathroom. Riddick chuckled and turned catching a bemused expression on Imam's face. Their eyes held for a moment with Riddick regarding Imam levelly, daring him to comment, and then Imam's gaze shifted to the closed door, behind which they could hear the low thrum of the fresher unit starting.

"A child's capacity to deal with adversity is amazing; is it not, Mr. Riddick?" Imam asked, bringing his dark eyes back to meet the mercury gaze. Riddick gave Imam another wolfish grin before returning to the cockpit and settling himself in the pilot's chair.

"You seem to be growing quite fond of young Jack," Imam ventured, diplomatically cautious.

"Yeah, well, she's quite a kid." Riddick stared back at the cleric and a shadow crossed Imam's face. Riddick snapped his goggles into place and turned to face the controls, firmly conveying the message that he didn't care to discuss the issue any further.

* * *

Imam watched quietly as Riddick's hands moved over the controls of the ship. He worried about the growing relationship between Riddick and Jack. On the bright side, they related to one another naturally, instinctively, and that connection was obviously good for both of them in many ways. But on the other hand, Imam saw a growing darkness in the young girl that he feared might someday swallow her. 

Jack had injured him when she dismissed his attempt to comfort her after they came on board, but Imam had expected that she would come to him when she was ready. To his consternation, she had instead turned to Riddick for comfort; however, it was Riddick's response that had truly astonished Imam. The big man had comforted her through her breakdown, cuddling her like a lost puppy. Imam had surmised that the self-professed "convict and murderer" felt vaguely responsible for their care, but he had not anticipated the obvious strength of the bond growing between Riddick and Jack.

Imam turned his attention back to the prayer beads in his hands, running his fingers lovingly over their well-worn surfaces. Earlier, he had sent praises to Allah for bringing Richard B. Riddick to them. Now, he prayed for guidance. What was he to do about the ex-con and the young girl?

His thoughts drifted from Jack to the three young men who had been lost on the planet and a wave of grief passed through him. They had lost so many bright lives in that dark place, and he knew that he would need time to understand fully how the loss could fit within the great pattern of Allah's will. He accepted that there must be some reason for Allah to bring him to this point, but acceptance did not mean understanding. _Perhaps, I have lost my other sheep because Allah desired that I find a new flock in the form of Jack,_ Imam mused.

He looked up from his contemplations as the door to the fresher opened and a decidedly cleaner Jack emerged. Her clothing, while stained and torn in places, also looked much cleaner. Imam suspected that she had run it through the sonic cleansing system as well.

"You look like you feel much better, child," he told her with a warm smile and a gesture of invitation to join him on the bench.

Jack shrugged her thin shoulders and rewarded him with a lopsided grin but remained standing. "Well, at least a little less like the bottom of a miner's boot," she quipped, glancing at Riddick. Imam noted her gaze and was surprised to see that the big man had silently spun the pilot's chair around and was regarding them with an inscrutable expression.

"So, Mr. Riddick, what is the next step in our journey?" he queried.

"Figure we should make use of the cryo-tubes. We're still a long way out in the middle of nowhere. It'll take several weeks to get from here to New Mecca. That was where you were heading, wasn't it, holy man?"

"Indeed, Mr. Riddick," Imam answered. "And I feel even more strongly the need to complete my hajj to do honor to those souls we left behind us."

Riddick sat thinking for a moment longer and then gave a sharp nod of his head. He stood quickly and moved to Jack, casually resting his arm around her thin shoulders. Imam watched quietly as Riddick guided the girl toward one of the four cryotubes, which lined the walls of the cabin. Riddick efficiently opened the tube and then patted the plushly upholstered interior.

"Nap time, kiddo," he said grinning at her. "Looks like, you're going first class this trip."

Jack snickered, then climbed in and lay down in the chamber. Imam saw a haunted look cross her face as Riddick moved to close it. "Not yet!" she commanded and then swiftly hopped back out of the tube. The two men watched as she quickly searched the cabin and located the large gun that she'd used to kill Antonia Chillingsworth. She, then, climbed back into the cryo-tube, hugging the big weapon like a teddy bear.

Imam looked at her with a growing horror. _How can she cradle an instrument of death so lovingly? Is she so far gone already?_ Silently, he prayed, _Please, Allah, help me pull this child back from the brink!_

Jack glared at him and he realized she must have read the look on his face. "You got a problem?" she demanded with narrowed eyes.

"N-no, my child," he stammered, struggling to find the right words. He moved over and patted her leg in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "May the peace of Allah be with you as you sleep."

Jack turned back to Riddick and reached for his hand. "Stay with me. Just till I fall asleep. Then you can start up the cryo."

Imam watched as Riddick settled himself on the edge of the cryotube and rested his hand on her head. He slipped the goggles up to his forehead then raised his mercury gaze to Imam. The big man casually gestured toward the door of the empty fresher unit.

"You should take a turn, too, holy man," he stated softly. Imam knew that it was a command, not a suggestion.

"Of course, Mr. Riddick," he bowed slightly and then walked to the fresher. A sense of foreboding swept over him as he looked at the pair across the cabin before closing the door and turning around. His mind brought forth images of a lamb and a tiger, but he worried that the lamb analogy might be less than accurate for the young woman in the room behind him. He knelt in the tiny bathroom and sent up a most fervent prayer for all their souls before standing and making use of the small sonic shower.

* * *

Riddick watched as Imam reluctantly closed the door to the bathroom sensing the holy man's unease. He knew the man of peace didn't understand what Jack was experiencing; Imam had never taken a human life. Riddick understood, though—understood perfectly. 

He turned his regard to Jack. Exhaustion had obviously set in and she was already drifting toward sleep. He traced the side of her face with the edge of his thumb and she blinked at him with a sleepy smile.

"G'night, Riddick," Jack mumbled sleepily. He felt her slide her hand up and down his muscular back in a fond caress, before she tucked it back around the big gun.

_Gives new meaning to 'security' blanket,_ he mused silently. Riddick sat there for a few more moments as Jack drifted into a deep sleep.

"Goodbye, Jack," he said sadly. He then bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her unique aroma. She smelled sweet and clean, very much his Jack. To his great surprise, he felt a lurch in his stomach and his breath hitched a bit in his chest.

Confounded by the strength of his reaction, he stood quickly and expertly connected the cryo system that would support her for the next couple of months as they journeyed to New Mecca. He then closed and sealed the chamber, before moving back to the pilot's chair.

Riddick sat and stared pensively at the stars outside: his elbows resting on the chair arms, hands steepled in thought. He knew he had to leave Jack in New Mecca. The Chillingsworth incident had been too close-entirely too close-for his comfort. As they had sped away from the planet, he'd told Jack that Riddick was dead. At the time, he'd meant it. He had decided to use Carolyn Fry's sacrifice as an opportunity to start fresh. It was a nice dream. However, it was a dream that was shattered by Antonia Chillingsworth and her horde of frozen mercs.

Riddick now grimly accepted that the price on his head meant he could never just start over. Moreover, those mercs left on the bitch's ship knew he wasn't dead. They would try to track him. The thought of what could happen if Jack were with him if-when-they caught up to him caused unfamiliar tendrils of fear to tighten around his heart. Not fear for himself, he realized, fear for the girl about whom he was beginning to care entirely too much.

_And what if, by some quirk of fate, we manage to avoid the mercs? What kind of life can I offer her? I have no idea how to take care of a kid, especially a girl,_ he reflected wryly. _Yeah, a girl who's gonna turn into a woman before I know it. Then what the hell would I do?_

Riddick heard the door to the fresher unit slide open and Imam exited. The holy man stopped briefly and rested his hand on the cryotube in which Jack lay peacefully curled around the gun; he, then, continued to the front of the cockpit where he stopped once more.

"Riddick…" he said firmly, placing a callused hand on Riddick's shoulder.

"Trouble?" Riddick asked, drumming his fingers together as he watched the other man sink wearily into the copilot's seat.

"Yes, but…" Imam trailed off and then turned to search the stars as if expecting to find an answer to his dilemma written among them. He turned back to Riddick. "It is nothing back there. What worries me lies ahead of us."

"Jack," Riddick stated flatly, forcing the truth into the open.

"I am concerned for her, Riddick. That she will become…" Imam let his sentence trail off once more.

_Probably doesn't want to upset the big, bad, dangerous ex-con by telling him he can't keep his little friend,_ Riddick mused cynically. He finished the holy man's sentence: "Like me."

Imam didn't confirm the statement, but he also didn't contradict it. They sat in silence for a moment before Riddick turned to the controls. He typed on the keypad causing the star chart to spin in the display and flash up a set of stellar coordinates and a name: UV System.

"What is that place?" Imam asked as he stared curiously at the display.

"That's nowhere," Riddick stated flatly. He was unwilling to acknowledge aloud where he was going, but he wanted Imam to know. He quickly spun the display back to Helion Prime. "I'm dropping you guys in New Mecca. Then I'm gone. I think it's best if I leave before she wakes. I set her cryotube to keep her under for an extra day. We can offload it once we arrive."

"She will most likely be very angry, when she learns you have gone without saying goodbye," Imam ventured cautiously.

Riddick grinned at him. "I'm sure she will at that, holy man. She's a willful little minx. But, I'm sure you'll figure something out. God to guide you and all that."

Then, Riddick's face became very serious as he leaned toward Imam with his clenched fists resting between them on the console, "Look, I can't take the chance of her stowing away. I need to be there and gone like a ghost. I'm not gonna have time to turn around and bring her back, and we both know I can't take her with me. I'm always gonna have mercs chasin' me. It's a hard life running all the time, always watching your back. Jack deserves better than that; she's earned it."

Riddick held Imam's eyes for a long moment and then spoke in a low, forceful growl, "Promise, you'll take care of her. Help her forget all this fucking shit. Give her a home."

"By the will of Allah, it shall be done," Imam said firmly, and then bowed his head solemnly to seal his vow.

Riddick leaned back in his chair and turned away from Imam. He closed his eyes, rested his tented fingers against his lips and exhaled wearily, "Best be gettin' back to the cryotube, holy man. Got a long way to go."

Riddick felt, rather than saw, Imam stand from the copilot's chair. The robed priest paused briefly. He rested his hand lightly upon the crown of Riddick's head, then spoke, "You are more than what you first seem, my son. May the grace of Allah guide you and keep you safe. May you find peace."

The priest waited a moment longer. When Riddick did not respond, he withdrew his hand and walked back to an empty cryotube. He listened as Imam knelt in prayer for a few moments and then climbed into the chamber and engaged the cryo system. A moment latter Riddick heard the hiss and whirr of the system coming online and then the cabin lapsed into silence except for the quiet hum of machinery.

"You, too, Father. You too," he told the silence. "And Jack, especially Jack."

He sat thinking for several more hours before finally resigning himself to the hated cryochamber and the dreams he knew awaited him within it.


	3. Chapter Three

**Title: The Road to Hell – Chapter Three **

**Author: **Brigette (brigand13)

**Summary: **This chapter cuts back to Chillingsworth's ship where a change of ownership is taking place.

**Warnings: **Harsh Language, Sexual Content. If these things offend you, please take note.

**Disclaimer:** The characters of Riddick, Jack, etc. in this story do not belong to me and I mean no infringement upon anyone's rights of ownership to those characters.

**Feedback: **Shred away! I would love any and all feedback- positive and negative. With regard to grammar and spelling errors, I've read this through several times and I think it is pretty clean, but I may have missed some stuff. Please let me know here if you spot any and I'll gladly revise. As for characterization and tone, I think I've gotten pretty close, but I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks.

**Chapter Three **

At a view port that ran along the side of the late Antonia Chillingsworth's ship, Gabriel Toombs stood, staring out at the deep space into which Riddick and the other two prisoners had disappeared. "You know, Riddick, I oughta thank you for givin' me all this-hell, it wasn't even my birthday. But your big, bald ass is worth too much for me to let ya just fly away forever," he growled to the darkness. "Oh, it's not over between us, boy, not by a long shot. But first, I got some shit to take care of."

Toombs was in his early forties, with reddish-brown hair that was developing a few streaks of grey. The unique facial hair choice of sideburns and a goatee adorned his face, and he wore a perpetual smirk as though he were laughing at fate. While not handsome, the man was barrel-chested and ruggedly well-built - courtesy of a life spent chasing dangerous men without one of them managing to kill him.

Upon exiting the large sewer pipe, which he'd used to escape Chillingsworth's beastie, he had discovered that Riddick had killed not only Chillingsworth but her lieutenant Junner as well, leaving the ship effectively ownerless. He'd been so happy he could've kissed the bald ex-con. In the confusion following the rightful owner's death, he'd moved quickly to seize control of the ship and establish dominance over the crew who had been left alive in the wake of Riddick's visit. It hadn't really been all that difficult; most of the mercs were eager to have someone step up to take command.

Toombs turned away from the window and went in search of his chief engineer, Fred Twilovitch—whom everyone just called "Twitch". He needed the man to assist him in thawing select mercs so that he could create a command team for his ship. In working with him, Toombs had discovered that the man's nickname was extremely appropriate. Twitch was a small-framed, sharp-featured man in his mid-forties with perpetually messy brown hair who seemed to almost vibrate with nervous energy any time he had to interact with other people. Toombs thought it was a rather annoying attribute, but Twitch was one of the best engineers Toombs had ever met.

Toombs found Twitch in a large maintenance corridor, fretting over some of the damage that had been done during the recent altercation. "Chillingsworth, you Goddamn bitch. Just let it rampage through here like it was in a fucking park," he muttered as he made entries on a reader.

Twitch had been Chillingsworth's chief engineer for several years, and Toombs had considered replacing him, since he couldn't be sure of the man's loyalty. But, he'd finally decided to keep him on staff. Twitch didn't seem to have any problems with the new management and he knew the ship inside and out.

"Twitch, lets go thaw some ice-cubes," Toombs bellowed down the corridor rather than walking to where the engineer was doing his damage survey.

"Be right there, Cap'n," Twitch yelled back. He saved his file on his reader then clipped it onto his belt. He jogged down the hallway and then swam a null-grav tube to where Toombs was waiting. Together they walked to the large cryogenic storage section. Twitch stopped at a panel and then plugged in his reader. "So, who we lookin' for anyway?" he asked as he called up a list of names.

"Mare… Marilyn Raskin," Toombs said, leaning casually against a bulkhead while the engineer worked.

Twitch punched in the name and then fidgeted while the motors inside the large chamber came to life to retrieve the requested cryotube. Shortly, the tube containing Mare was delivered in front of them. Twitch keyed in a code and the machinery went to work, reversing the cryo process.

While she thawed, Toombs regarded the woman inside. He had known Mare for the better part of 20 years perceived time; she'd been his mentor when he was getting into the merc business. She was a tough woman in her fifties, whip thin with short blond hair and a no nonsense attitude, which masked an outrageous sense of humor and appreciation for the ridiculous. _Probably why she's put up with my ass for all these years,_ Toombs thought.

While they'd been lovers in passing, it had been a temporary arrangement with a mutually amicable parting. She was about the only person he considered a true friend and he trusted her implicitly—just the sort he needed to pay attention to details which he couldn't be bothered with and to handle the ship when he was gone. For Toombs, the decision to make her the ship's XO was an obvious one.

The cryo system finished it's work then expelled Mare from the cryotube into a warming chamber below. She dropped to her knees, breathed deeply for a moment, and then shook her head vigorously. Finally, she raised her eyes to where Toombs lounged in the hallway and gave him a tight smile, "Gabe Toombs. It figures."

He grinned back at her, "Mare… how ya been?"

"Frozen," she said rolling her eyes at his unnecessary question; she then stood and stretched grimacing as she worked out the kinks in her joints. "And you?"

"Well, I happened upon this here ship, that someone was kind enough to die and leave behind. Thought a tough, old bird like you might be interested in helpin' me run her."

Mare's eyes widened as understanding began to set in, "Chillingsworth… Did you?"

"Hell, no! Didn't have to. Big, bald con by the name of Riddick took care of it for me. By the way, remind me to thank him when we catch his ass. So, you in?"

"Like you need to ask… Of course, I'm in," she said enthusiastically and then exited the warming chamber. She extended her hand to Toombs to seal the deal.

Toombs clasped her hand, then pulled her to him and enveloped her in a fierce hug: "Good to have ya on board, Mare! We're finally gonna hit the big time."

Mare laughed as she returned his hug, then pushed away from him, "So who else you got on the team?"

"Well, this here's Twitch," he introduced as he gestured to the small man who was shuffling his feet a few meters away. "He's gonna keep this boat humming for me; ain't ya, Twitch?"

"Ah…Sure, Cap'n," Twitch said as he stepped forward. He and Mare shook hands, and then Twitch stepped back. He rubbed his hand nervously along his leg as though even the brief contact had bothered him. His eyes darted from Toombs to Mare and then finally down to his reader.

Mare glanced at Toombs with raised eyebrows. He smirked at her skeptical look; she was obviously questioning his choice of Twitch for the engineering position. In answer to her unvoiced query, he said, "Hey Twitch, why don't you give Mare a quick run down of the old girl's specs while I decide who else to thaw out."

Toombs took the reader from him, and Twitch stepped aside with Mare and launched into a detailed analysis of the ship's capabilities. The man became visibly calmer as he settled into a subject with which he was comfortable. Mare's face showed dawning respect for the jittery engineer, eliciting a low chuckle from Toombs.

Toombs, then, dropped his attention to the reader in his hands and he began scrolling through the lists of names. _Need a navigator…_ he thought. The screen popped up the name Jericho Barnes: _Hey, there's a possibility._

Jericho was another old-hand merc whom Toombs had worked with before. The man was an absolute financial wizard as well as being a damn fine navigator. Toombs punched a key and the mechanisms inside the large storage room whirred to life again, delivering another cryotube. This tube was occupied by a tall ebony-skinned man of indeterminate age with small braids cascading to his mid-back.

"Jericho, huh?" Mare queried as she stepped up behind him, having finished her conversation with Twitch. "I thought you didn't like him?"

"It ain't that I don't like the stoic bastard. He's just got no damned appreciation for a good joke," Toombs informed her as he passed the reader to Twitch so that he could unfreeze Jericho. "But he can plot a course blindfolded while he figures complex depreciation in his head. Plus, he's the most intractable negotiator I've ever met. We're gonna need that when we start droppin' off our cargo—old Chillingsworth left us with a whole load of bounties that need collectin'."

Within ten minutes, Jericho was thawed and had joined them in the hall. He quickly agreed to join the crew when Toombs put him in charge of determining how much the cargo was worth and then identifying a route that would maximize their bounty for a minimum effort in a sweep around the sector. Jericho rewarded them with a rare shark-like smile and then excused himself to begin his calculations.

"Alright now, we got an XO, a navigator-slash-financier, and an engineer. And of course, the best Captain a ship could ask for," Toombs listed, "What else ya reckon we need, Mare?"

Mare thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Could use someone to head security. You know how mercs get when they're stuck on a boat for long, even one this size. And we can't keep them all frozen. Wouldn't hurt to have someone who could handle any situations when they pop up. Security chief could also take care of researching any new hands we pick up."

Toombs claimed the reader from Twitch once more and began scanning through names. "Security… Security…Whoa! Hello, baby. Who are you?"

Mare and Twitch flanked him to look at the screen, which displayed a picture of a young woman. She was exceedingly pretty: long dark hair that hung in dense tangled curls, full pouting mouth, and a curvaceous figure. The name Kyra was displayed in her profile with no surname. Toombs quickly engaged the retrieval mechanism and brought the tube to them.

"Toombs, this is not the time," Mare cautioned. "Besides, look at her, she's a child. She can't be more than about sixteen. Are you turning into a pedophile on me?"

"Says here she's twenty-two, all legal and shit!" he shot back. "And her profile says that she brought in over twenty cons on her own before she signed with Chillingsworth. You don't do that if you're only sixteen. Hell, she's got a black belt in five separate martial arts! Hot DAMN, I've got my new security chief!"

"Dammit, Toombs! For once will you think with your big head instead of your little one!" Mare snapped as he grinned and then passed the reader back to Twitch.

"Thaw her," he commanded.

* * *

In his damage assessment, Twitch found that the rampaging creatures had gotten into the star-drive system. Toombs cursed Chillingsworth thoroughly when Twitch informed him that the repairs would take about six weeks to complete because of the need to fabricate some of the parts. Until it could be fixed, they were stuck. 

Toombs decided to spend his downtime on something—or rather someone—new. While his team worked on the ship, he launched a focused pursuit of his sexy new security chief. At first she was resistant to his advances ("I don't sleep where I work," she told him.) but Toombs would not be denied so he turned on the charm full force. Toombs rarely chose to be charming (he was just more comfortable being irascibly good-natured) but that didn't mean he didn't know how

Over the next few weeks, Toombs deliberately saw a lot of Kyra, although not as much as he would have liked. He'd wanted her in his bed from first sight, but as he got to know her, he found the woman to be extremely compelling on a higher level as well. She took to the security chief position as though she'd been born to it; even Mare seemed to be impressed with her ability. As Kyra worked to establish respect among the rest of the crew, Toombs saw her drop men three times her size with a minimum of effort. In spite, or perhaps because, of her beauty and innocent appearance, he began to consider her one of the most dangerous people he'd ever met—a significant statement in light of his career choice. Of course, her dangerous competence at her job only redoubled his resolve to seduce her.

Within a week, he had talked her into acting as his sparring partner. It gave him an excellent opportunity to flirt with the woman. ("Nothing like combat to get the juices flowing," he'd explained to Mare as she helped him treat a particularly nasty bruise that Kyra had given him during one of their sessions. Mare had simply shaken her head.)

As his freetime was increasingly spent in her presence, he found himself enjoying her company more than he'd anticipated. His libido urged him to push things to the next level, but he resisted the urge. He kept things light, wanting to draw her to him.

After their sparring matches, they would share stories about bounties they'd collected and they found that they had an amazing amount in common. Other than Mare, Toombs didn't remember relating to a woman quite so equitably. And he could tell that under his concerted effort to woo her, her resolve about work relationships was crumbling.

To his delight, she started flirting with him as well. She seemed to need to touch him when they were together; frequently, she would rest a hand on his shoulder or arm as they spoke. The little caresses seemed completely unplanned on her part, but they ignited his lust making him want her all the more.

The anticipation was driving him to distraction and affecting his other activities as well. Finally, Mare cornered him in his office and forced the issue: "Dammit, Gabe. Will you quit mooning after the woman and just fuck her! There's shit you need to tend too and you aren't doing it."

"I don't wanna rush things," he told her.

"Since when?"

"Since Kyra," he snapped. "Damn, Mare. She's different. I want _her_ to want it… me as much as I want her. And, goddamnit, I enjoy her fucking company and I don't wanna lose that cause I pushed too much."

The woman smiled at him and shook her head, "Gabriel Toombs, mercenary scourge, is looking for a relationship. Who'd have thought it?"

"Piss off," he snarled, glaring at the top of his desk, but he didn't contradict her because he knew it would do no good. Mare knew him too well and she was right. He did want a relationship with Kyra that went beyond simple sex. The woman had gotten under his skin.

Mare laughed at his consternation, "For what it's worth, she wants you, too."

"Not that I'm disagreeing, but how ya reckon?"

"Oh, come on, Gabe. She can't keep her hands off you when you're in the same room. Now will you stop with the blue-balls bullshit and just go jump the girl. Trust me, you'll both feel better. And then maybe we can get this hunk of junk moving and go cash in those bounties that Jericho has been so gleefully adding up."

"Mare, if you're wrong about this, I'm gonna kick your ass," Toombs informed her with a smirk that softened his words.

She grinned back at him and then left the room, tossing parting words over her shoulder, "Go get her, Tiger."

* * *

Toombs sauntered into the gym where Kyra had already started her workout. Several other mercs were using various training machines, but Kyra had claimed a large mat and was stepping through a martial arts form that Toombs didn't recognize. She was barefoot, wearing knee-length tights that fit her trim legs like a second skin along with a sport-top that emphasized her chest and revealed a tempting expanse of abdomen. Her movements were precise and controlled, but they warned of lethal power. Her face was set into a fierce expression. The site would have caused most people—especially those she'd fought before—to give her a wide berth out of fear for their own safety; Toombs found it exceedingly arousing. 

He skirted around the gym, and then stalked quietly toward the woman. As he reached a point about two meters from her, he lunged forward intent on grabbing her with a wrestling hold that would allow him to force her to the ground. Apparently, she heard him move—or for that matter, she could have been tracking him all along—because she turned toward him and dropped her shoulder as he reached her. She then grabbed his outstretched arm and, with an amazingly effortless flip of her hands, used his own momentum to send him flying to the far side of the mat.

"Oh, baby, you know I love it when you do that," Toombs purred as he rolled with the fall and rose into a crouch with a leering grin. Kyra cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him then both of them began a slow circle around the mat. Toombs watched her movements waiting for an opening. "Come on, sweetheart, let me have it."

Toombs saw Kyra tense and then she suddenly leapt forward and kicked at his midsection. He sidestepped at the last moment and wrapped his arm around her leg as it slipped past his gut. He then swept her other leg with his foot causing her to tumble to the ground on her back. "Hey, this has potential," he said with another grin, appreciating her position.

As he moved forward to push his advantage, Kyra kicked out again and this time connected. Her foot caught his torso and she once again used his own momentum to send him sailing past her onto the mat. Toombs immediately rolled to his feet, but Kyra had already stood and was facing him. "Oh, come on, Kyra, why you fightin' so hard? You know you want it as much as I do."

His comment finally drew a feral grin from her as she circled warily. "Would you want it so much if I didn't fight this hard?" she taunted him. She then danced in with a quick snap kick at his head, which he dodged easily. His hand snaked out at her leg and contacted shoving it hard to throw her off balance. As she stumbled, he slipped an arm around her waist and then threw her to the floor. Before she could recover, he was on her, straddling her midsection.

As he tried to immobilize her hands, he realized, too late, that he'd straddled her too far forward. Her legs snapped up and wrapped around his throat. She heaved, throwing him backward and reversing their positions; she ended straddling him with one hand around this throat and the other fist cocked to deliver a finishing blow.

Toombs laughed heartily: "Hey, baby, you wanna be on top, I'm okay with that." He slipped his hands up and grasped her waist. He caressed the deliciously exposed skin with his thumbs as he splayed his fingers across her back.

Kyra's arm relaxed and she rested it on his chest; he could feel the warmth of her hand through the lightweight T-shirt he wore. She raised her other hand from his throat to stroke gently along his face; her fingers traced the shape of the sideburn on his cheek. He felt himself grow hard at her attentions. From her perch, she apparently felt it too because she frowned slightly and then shook her head, "You know, I shouldn't do this. It's never a good idea to get involved with someone you work with. And technically, you're my fucking boss."

"I could fire ya, if it'd make ya feel better," he offered grinning wickedly; then quickly twisted his head to place a light kiss on her palm.

"No, that's all right. I think I've decided to make an exception," she assured him with a sultry laugh. He felt her relax against him and she moved her hands to either side of his head. Supporting her weight on her arms, she bent slowly forward until her lips were a whisper away from his. He stared at her intent on letting her take the lead, but then, she exhaled. The sweet, cinnamon scent of her breath destroyed the last of his restraint.

His arms wrapped around her crushing her to him and their mouths met in a fierce kiss. Toombs growled and flipped her onto her back, drawing a gasp from her. He moved his mouth to her throat and ran his tongue along the delicate line of her collarbone. She sighed and threaded her hands through his hair. Her fingers danced along his scalp sending electric tingles to his groin. Toombs slid his hand along her side, and slipped it under her top to cup her full breast. He brushed the rough pad of his thumb over her nipple eliciting another gasp. He grinned down at her and asked, "You like that, baby?"

She answered by slipping her hands under his shirt and scraping her finger nails roughly across his back drawing tiny welts of blood. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled. She then pulled him back down to her for another deep probing kiss. He stroked his cheek against hers, allowing the roughness of his beard to gently scratch along the smoothness of her skin. This drew a moan of pleasure from Kyra.

Suddenly, he heard a sound that pulled him away from his task. Several of the crew had abandoned the exercise equipment and were watching them—some awkwardly, but most with broad eager leers. "Get… Out…" he snarled. Toombs glared at them through a rising haze of passion as Kyra's hands stroked along his sides. When several seemed reluctant to leave the show, he roared, "NOW!"

The mercs scattered like bits of paper in a stiff breeze. When the pair had the room to themselves, he turned his attention back to the woman beneath him on the mat. Her blue eyes sparkled with laughter and she moved her hands to stroke his upper arms as he supported himself above her. "You know, Toombs, if I'd realized the fringe benefit of fucking you was to get the gym to myself; I'd have done it days ago," she teased.

"Woman, I'm the goddamn captain. When you're fucking me, you can have whatever part of this ship you want to yourself… as long as you do it with me around," he informed her. He then bent and kissed her again, this time hard, his lips bruising against hers. She caught his lip between her teeth and nibbled gently further heightening his passion.

A moment later, they had removed their clothes and were moving on the mat in an almost parody of the wrestling that they had done there previously. Kyra screamed his name and Toombs felt her climax beneath him pushing him over the edge with a growl. His arms buckled where he'd been supporting himself above her. He angled his collapse to the side so as not to crush her and snaked his arms around her pulling her close to his body.

They lay there for several minutes with their bodies entwined. Finally, Toombs raised himself onto an elbow and stared at her face. She smiled at him and he grinned back. "You're probably aware that I've wanted to do that since I first saw you," he said.

"Yeah. And?"

"And I just wanted to let ya know that it was worth the wait. Even the weeks of blueballs you've put me through," he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, it was," she agreed. Her smile broadened and she pulled his face to hers and kissed him thoroughly. Suddenly, she performed a kicking roll maneuver that ended with him on his back and her straddling his abdomen. She spread her hands on his chest and then, teasingly, scraped his skin with her nails.

He felt himself begin to harden once more and he was suddenly glad of his abstinance while he'd pursued her. He waggled his eyebrows at her, gave her his best lascivious grin and then asked, "Wanna go again?"

"You better believe it. But this time _I_ get to be on top," she informed him.

* * *

As the necessary repairs neared their completion, Toombs called his staff together for a command meeting. They were waiting in his conference room when he arrived and watched him expectantly as he walked across the room and seated himself at the head of the table. Toombs reveled in the attention as he dropped his bulk into the chair. Mechanisms inside of it shifted slightly forming it to his frame. "Well, Chillingsworth may have been a total nutcase, but she definitely had good taste in chairs," he informed the others as he settled himself. He then sat back and surveyed the four individuals sitting down the table from him mentally noting their finer points—especially Kyra's. 

Toombs didn't know how long he sat regarding them, but he realized that his mental rundown was apparently taking a bit too long when Kyra demanded, "Dammit, Toombs, stop staring at us and get down to business. We got better things to do than sit here all fucking day."

"Kyra, my girl, you need to learn a little patience," Toombs said amusement tinging his voice. He gestured around the table. "You don't see the rest of 'em gettin' all antsy, do ya? You'd be one of the best mercs in the galaxy if ya'd just learn a little patience."

"Fuck you, Toombs," she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Maybe later, baby," he told her with a broad suggestive grin, then dodged sideways as she sent the stylus of her reader whizzing toward his head. The rest of the team observed the exchange without comment; they had grown used to the antics of Toombs and his lover in the past couple of weeks.

Toombs retrieved the erstwhile missile and sent it spinning across the table to land precisely in front of Kyra. Then, Mare cleared her throat and gazed at him with a quirked eyebrow. Toombs grinned back at her impishly and raised his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, okay! Holy hell, I think everyone here's lost their sense of humor or somethin'."

He settled himself back in his chair, "All right, first order of business. We need a name for this bucket of bolts."

"You don't like Kubla Khan?" Twitch inquired narrowing his eyes appraisingly at Toombs.

"Naw, that's a pansy name! We need somethin' with a little more zing!"

Mare's lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. She looked inquisitively at Toombs, "Do you have anything in mind?"

Toombs grinned again, "Ahh, Mare, ya know me too well. I got a great name: the Undertaker." He leaned back proudly spreading his hands in front of him as though to present some great discovery.

At that, Mare snorted. "Undertaker? Gabe, you've gotta be kidding!"

"Naw, it's clever. See, the undertaker brings men to tombs. And that's this ship, it brings men to Toombs." He beamed at them over his joke waiting for them to acknowledge its inherent cleverness and superiority. Four faces stared back at him with a mixture of expressions, none of which conveyed the enthusiasm Toombs felt his bit of wit deserved. _Maybe they need a second for it to sink in._

"Undertaker…tombs. Undertaker… Toombs," he said again indicating himself, then expectantly watching them for a better response. When their expressions didn't change, Toombs snarled, "Don't ya get it?"

Twitch looked at him and stated flatly, "No, we get it fine. It's just not funny."

"God dammit, like I said before, you people go no sense of humor! Well I don't give a shit, I like the name, and by fuck, that's what we're calling MY ship!"

Toombs sulked a moment before Mare spoke up, "It's fine. One name is as good as the next."

"No, it ain't! And Undertaker's a great name!"

"Whatever!" Kyra interjected. "Call the damn ship whatever you want. For all I care, you can call the shuttles pallbearers and the emergency skiffs coffins. Can we just get on with it?"

The rest of the team groaned aloud as Toombs' face lit up at Kyra's sarcastic remark. Taking her suggestion literally, he slapped the table and exclaimed, "There ya go, baby! Now your gettin' into the spirit of it!"

As three sets of eyes turned accusingly to Kyra, she shrugged sheepishly, "Uh… Sorry, guys. You know how my mouth runs away with me sometimes."

Toombs gave a husky chuckle and waggled his eyebrows, greatly amused with himself, "All right, so the ship's the Undertaker and the shuttles are Pallbearers One through Six. I think we'll skip callin' the emergency skiffs 'coffins' though. Might make folks a little edgy."

At that statement, Mare erupted into laughter. Toombs sat back, finally satisfied at getting a response from one of his audience. Mare took one look at his smug expression and the woman started laughing even harder. Her mirth was infectious, bringing smiles to the faces of the rest of the team; even the stoic Jericho smirked at her as she struggled to bring her fit of hilarity under control.

"Gabe…Toombs… you motherfucker…" she gasped, breathing heavily as she visibly fought to regain her composure. "I always did find you… too damned amusing…for my own good."

"Aw, Mare, you know you love me," he said, grinning at her fondly. He then picked up his reader and began scanning the real agenda.

Satisfied that they had finally at least moderately acknowledged his comedic genius, Toombs quickly turned business-like and ran down the list of important topics that needed to be addressed before they could start delivering the load of bounties. Mare and Twitch were already working on acquiring new transponder codes; Mare had actually anticipated the name change and was waiting on that to finalize the new codes. She shook her head slightly in mild exasperation as she wrote down the name Toombs had selected.

Jericho, who had completed his survey of the bounties, had extremely good news: "The load we're hauling will bring in about 20 million UD. Plus in cataloging all Chillingsworth's possessions I've discovered additional art and furniture and such worth about 4 million UD. Her taste was truly shit, so you probably won't mind getting rid of the stuff. Also, I had Twitch crack open a safe from her…uh, your… bedroom; it was full of hard currency to the tune of approximately 800,000 UD. Altogether, that gives about 25 million UD to work with. No two ways about it, the bitch was loaded."

"Yeah, and now it's all ours," Toombs purred reveling in the thought of being rich. "How much we gonna have left after we pay off this load of mercs?"

Jericho tapped a series of quick calculations into his reader, "I estimate about 18 million UD."

"Oh, hell yeah! People, we're rich!" Toombs said with enthusiasm. "And we're…"

Twitch cleared his throat drawing a raised eyebrow from Toombs, "You, uh… you know Toombs, we're one shuttle short. An' it was the best of the lot. That Riddick guy really knew his hardware; he, uh… he took the command shuttle. It ain't gonna be cheap to replace."

"Riddick," Toombs growled. "How much?"

"Well, Antonia had that one really decked out… it, uh… I guess you could call it her baby," Twitch answered nervously glancing back and forth from Toombs to Jericho. "If you want the exact same specs you're looking at about 5 million UD. You can back off a lot of the luxury items and probably drop it to about 4 mil new or maybe 3.5 mil good-used."

"Dammit, Riddick! You're costing me money, boy," Toombs snapped in irritation. He fumed silently for a brief moment, and then exhaled heavily and his mood improved. "Ah well, that still leaves us with at least 13 million UD. We're still rich."

"Toombs, there's one more thing," Mare inserted smoothly. "The repairs. That little rampage stunt of Chillingsworth's did a fair amount of damage that Twitch can't repair out here. We're really just limping even with all the repairs he's already made. We need to dock the ship and do some real work before she'll be truly sound."

"Son-of-a-bitch! How much?" he looked at Mare, who turned to Twitch who if possible squirmed even more nervously.

"I'd say… uh um… maybe four to five mil," he said reluctantly while rubbing his hands along his pants in a habitual nervous gesture.

"Damn Chillingsworth and her fucking spectacles! If the bitch wasn't dead, I'd kill her for costing me so much money," he stated flatly. No one bothered to point out that if she hadn't been dead, he wouldn't have had the money in the first place.

With the financial situation under control, they moved quickly through the rest of the items on the list and twenty minutes later Toombs dismissed them. As the others moved to leave, he leaned back and propped his feet on the edge of the table with his ankles crossed then laced his fingers behind his head grinning in satisfaction. When Kyra moved past him to leave the room with the others, he shot an arm out and grabbed her around the waist then spun her into his lap.

"Hey, baby, you ever make it with a millionaire?" he asked her. She didn't answer aloud, instead giving him a sly smile that drew a chuckle from him. "All right then, you ever make it with a millionaire on a conference table?"

Kyra swung one leg over to straddle him then leaned forward and brushed her breasts against his chest. "What do you think?" she purred as she tantalizingly ran the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip.

Toombs growled in appreciation and pressed a button on the arm of his chair to lock the conference room door, ensuring their privacy. With that he swept her up, deposited her on the conference table and began removing their clothing, intent upon showing the little minx precisely what he thought…


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

She was drifting, stuck in a dark place, and there was something in the darkness… waiting… hunting. She felt fear—gut-wrenching, mind-numbing fear—because she knew that it was after her. She turned and ran. Her heart pounded in her throat and hot air made her eyes sting. The muscles in her side began to seize, but she ignored the pain. If she stopped running, the monsters would be on her.

Suddenly, she tripped falling into mud and there were bones all around her. The creatures in the darkness swooped and shrieked—a sound that sent chills through her soul. She rolled under a large bone and one of the hammer-headed beasts was immediately on top of it. The thing pounded with its skull, trying to bust through. This was the end! There was no way for her to stop it! The bone began to crack and she screamed a name, "RIDDICK!"

* * *

Jack sat upright, panting. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body and the bedclothes were twisted around her. Slowly, the aftershock of the nightmare dissipated, and she became aware of her surroundings: golden cream stucco walls, dark wood furniture with intricate carvings, French doors open to a small balcony. She was in Imam's house in New Mecca, in her own room. Imam rushed into the room, concern written on his dark features. 

"Jack! Are you all right, child?" he asked, grasping her by the shoulders. Jack heaved a shuddering sigh and nodded.

"The dreams again? The same as before?" he inquired, his eyes searching her face. Again she nodded.

"I have them, too, you know," he reminded her and then gently lifted her face to look at him. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Jack inhaled and smiled weakly at him. She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm fine Imam. You go get some sleep, you've got a big day tomorrow."

Imam smiled at that. "You know, child, I did not expect to marry again. But it has been ten years since my wife went to join Allah, and a young girl like you needs a mother. I believe that Lajjun will make an excellent wife and mother."

"Oh, come on, Imam," Jack teased, giving him a genuine grin. "I've seen the way you look at her. Your whole face lights up."

"Ah, well…" he glanced down sheepishly. "She is much younger than me, could have had her choice of many men. I am honored that she has agreed to join her path to mine."

Jack laughed gently, leaned forward and briefly hugged the man. In a low conspiratorial voice, she told him, "You know, I've seen the way she looks at you, too. I don't know much about this whole 'arranged marriage' thing, but I think she's really into you."

At her words, he stood and laughed loudly. "Ah, Jack, you are a balm to the spirit of a romantic old fool."

Jack grinned impishly at Imam and waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "Not so old that you don't need a good night's rest before your wedding day. After all, you and Lajjun aren't likely to get much sleep _tomorrow_ night."

Imam looked at her again, obviously scandalized by her frank speech. Jack was unable to suppress a snicker at his shocked expression. She knew that a good Crislam girl her age would never have dared to hint at something like sex, even between a married or soon to be married couple. _Oh well,_ she mused silently, _I guess I'm just not a good little girl._ Imam simply shook his head and walked out, muttering something about Allah giving him strength.

* * *

Jack really was fond of Imam, and she realized that he had made major changes to his life to help make a place for her. Almost immediately upon landing, he committed himself to staying in New Mecca. He had begun procedures to be granted official long-term guardianship of Jack, accepted a teaching post at a local seminary and petitioned the head of the Crislam church to assist him with finding a suitable bride. "Someone who can serve as a mother to Jack. Perhaps, a pleasant widow or someone…" he had said. But Lajjun was not a 'pleasant widow,' she was a vibrant, beautiful, young woman only a dozen or so years older than Jack. 

It was obvious to Jack that Imam was thoroughly shocked when the Caliph formally presented them to Lajjun and her family. Imam and Lajjun had gone for a very long walk in the church garden. When they returned, both had been smiling brightly. Imam had gently clasped Lajjun's elbow in a most proprietary way, and they announced that they wished to be married as soon as the appropriate preparations could be made.

Jack sensed their connection immediately. When they were making preparations for the wedding, their eyes often drifted to one another. Also, they took lots of walks together and just sat and talked for hours with Lajjun shyly called him Abu- his given name. Imam had asked Jack if she wished to address him as Abu after they'd landed. She had considered it and then asked if she could just continue calling him Imam—Abu just didn't fit him in her opinion. He had laughed and said, "Of course, child! Imam is a term of respect. I would be honored if you called me that."

Jack sat for a little while and then decided that she would never be able to get back to sleep. She stood and dressed quickly in her customary garb: a pair of loose black cargo pants with lots of pockets, a snug tank top and a loose fitting sweater woven from some sort of plant fiber that was native to Helion Prime. At first, Imam had tried to get her to wear the flowing Crislam robes that he called "proper clothing," but she had resisted. Eventually, he had given in and allowed her to choose the loose, comfortable, boyish clothes she preferred.

New Mecca was as diverse a city as one would find in this sector. She knew her clothing didn't look out of place in the community in general, but she also knew that several of the older women in the Imam's church muttered about her behind their hands. Normally, Jack didn't particularly care; tonight, she was particularly grateful. She swung her legs over the balcony railing, shinnied a few feet across a narrow ledge to a strong vine-swaddled trellis and then swiftly climbed down. She glanced back up at the railing, twelve or so feet above her head. _Can't do that in robes,_ she thought as she dusted her hands against the back of her pants.

Jack quietly slipped away from the house. She knew that Imam would scold her thoroughly and shake his head with a look of disappointment if he ever discovered that she was sneaking out. Imam had been given a very nice town home in a quiet, safe part of New Mecca as part of his compensation for his job at the seminary, but he still seemed reluctant to let her wander. Jack realized that he just wanted to protect her, but she had visited large cities all over the galaxy. She felt comfortable in cities, and she needed to wander—to be alone with her thoughts. It wasn't something she felt Imam could readily understand. She knew what the seedy underbelly of a city could look like and she knew how to take care of herself in that sort of place. Of course, the part of New Mecca where they lived was, in Jack's opinion, the most wholesome place she had ever been. Little kids played in the streets, and people smiled and waved to their neighbors and looked out for one another. So, rather than argue the facts with Imam, Jack simply took matters into her own hands. She slipped away whenever she could without him finding out.

Even with the need for secrecy curtailing her explorations, they had only been in New Mecca for a couple of weeks before she was adept at finding her way around the big city. That night, she immediately headed to one of her favorite places to sit and think, a large concrete drainpipe about a mile from their house. The pipe was part of the storm control system in New Mecca during the rainy season. During a storm, it could quickly fill with water and become very dangerous, so it was strictly off limits. That meant it was a place she could be completely alone—a rarity in a metropolis that size.

Jack had managed to find similar places in every city she'd visited, even the ones on deep-space stations. When you were a kid traveling alone, you had to find somewhere that you could get away or you aroused suspicions. If you weren't careful, some Good Samaritan might just call social services. Jack had left more than one place in a hurry after that happened; she'd been determined that the system would not return her to another endless series of group foster homes or, worse, consign her to one of the institutional schools where they tended to stick hard cases like her.

* * *

Jack slipped through the fence very cautiously to avoid being seen by anyone. She then made her way down the slight slope and into the pipe opening. This particular cistern was about five feet in diameter at its mouth, but it subdivided into many tributary pipes that led to the street level. Jack slipped into a smaller pipe and snuggled down to think. She stretched into the curve and rested her back against the pipe wall. Because of her lanky height, her legs curved up the side of the cylinder so that her feet were almost at a level with her eyes. She laced her fingers across her stomach and stared at the tips of her thick-soled boots, allowing her mind to drift as she pondered her life. 

Jack was going to miss traveling and not having to answer to anyone about her actions. New Mecca was a nice place and she really liked Imam, but she had also really enjoyed seeing the galaxy. She'd had fun on every planet she'd visited to date. _With one notable exception,_ she thought wryly, recalling the planet where the Hunter-Gratzner transport had crashed.

_Actually, even that little bit of hell had its nice points,_ she mused as Riddick's face drifted, unbidden, into her mind. Her thoughts of Riddick were a complex, bittersweet tangle; she genuinely cared for him, probably even loved him, but his leaving so abruptly had hurt her.

When Jack had awakened to find that Riddick was already gone without her, she had railed at him internally. _You, son-of-a-bitch! How could you fucking do that? Don't you know that I need you? I thought I meant something to you, that we had a link!_

He'd treated her like a younger sibling even while they were on the planet working on repairing the skiff. They'd shared private jokes, often at Paris Ogilvie's expense, and she'd enjoyed helping him work the stiff, wing fabric. The others had frowned and muttered and tried to steer her away from him, but she'd mostly ignored them. And he'd saved her ass, several times. She couldn't forget that. For a few days, she'd actually hoped vainly that he might come back and get her. He hadn't.

"What kind of fucking bastard just runs off without even saying goodbye?" she had demanded of Imam after she finally accepted that Riddick truly was gone from her life. "Did he say anything to you? Did he tell you where he's going?"

"No, child, he did not tell me," Imam had answered. She didn't think he was outright lying to her—his faith would prevent that. However, she suspected (no, KNEW!) that he was only telling part of the truth. Regardless, Imam would not be moved to tell her what he knew.

_He's amazingly stubborn for a religious guy,_ she thought with fond exasperation.

The dreams had started right after she awoke from cryo. She suspected they'd been there even while she was under. There was nothing she could really put her finger on to support this suspicion (she didn't actually recall any details) but she'd come out of the cryochamber with a vague feeling of dread and deep, primitive fear. It was a sensation that she'd never had before in all the time she'd spent in cryosleep, but then she'd never had an experience like the one on the planet. She supposed that could change a person in subtle ways.

Once they reached Helion Prime and New Mecca—once she'd been returned to the land of living, breathing, dreaming people—the dreams had begun in earnest. They came almost every night with varying topics and were so vivid that she had started sleeping with a small desk lamp turned on so that she wouldn't have to wake in the dark.

Mostly, Jack dreamt about the planet and the creatures. Like her dream that night, these dreams mainly focused on the run through the canyon, especially the part where she was trapped beneath the bone with the thing trying to get at her. Those were the ones that often caused her to wake up screaming and sent Imam rushing to her bedside. It had taken Imam a while, but eventually, he extracted details of the dream from her. He had confided that he too had nightmares about the planet. His were different. They often centered on his feelings of helplessness as the three young Crislam pilgrims- "his lambs"- were taken from him, but she knew he understood.

Sometimes, though, she dreamt about Chillingsworth: about how the gun had felt when she fired it, about how Chillingsworth had looked as she collapsed, about Riddick's expression when he realized that Jack, not Imam, had shot the woman. The Chillingsworth dreams, while frightening, were also somewhat exhilarating.

She didn't tell Imam about those dreams. He had been seriously disturbed when she shot the bitch. She knew he would worry about her if he found out how she felt about the Chillingsworth dreams. He just would not understand. However, that didn't stop her from having them or for cherishing them as a tenuous connection to Riddick. She couldn't let him go in her heart.

"Awfully uncivilized thing you just did, Jack," he'd said to her- she could still vividly remember the exact timber of his voice as he'd said it. With that he had stood in spite of his pain, ushered them onto the large shuttle and once again saved them. Then when they were safely away, he had held her as she poured out her grief for all that had taken place.

Jack didn't tend to get close to many people; even as fond as she was of Imam, she didn't feel the sort of deep down resonance she felt for Riddick. Jack clung to the sense of rightness that she had felt in his arms—the sense of connection and belonging, which was unique in her life.

The only other person to whom she had felt even a passing kinship in recent memory was Shazza on the planet. They had shared stories of their travels while Shazza worked on the sand-cat. She suspected that the tough woman had thought she was making most of it up. No one ever believed that a thirteen-year-old kid had seen as much of the universe as Jack had, but Shazza never made fun of her. The woman had even offered to let Jack go along with her on her travels once they left the planet, and Jack had considered taking her up on the offer. The prospector's only major flaw in Jack's mind had been her mother-hen tendency to try to steer Jack away from Riddick.

When the monsters swept Shazza away so suddenly, Jack had felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. However, while Shazza's death had hurt a lot, Riddick's leaving had been even worse. Jack had been so disheartened over the loss of Riddick in the wake of all that had happened on the planet, that Imam had finally confided in her. Her thoughts wandered back to the conversation; turning the holy man's words over in her mind.

"Mr. Riddick is a much more noble man than most people realize," he had said.

"No, shit? You figure that out all by yourself?" she had shot back sarcastically and was immediately sorry because of the hurt look that crossed Imam's face. She'd mumbled an apology and clamped her teeth together to let him have his say without further interruptions.

"Jack," he had explained gently, "I realize that you care a great deal for him, but he has a hard life. I believe that the encounter with the Chillingsworth woman frightened him more than he would admit. I know it certainly frightened me."

Unable to hold her tongue, Jack had interjected bitterly at that point, "I'm glad I did it! It gave me the chance to repay him a little for all he did for us on the planet. Besides, the bitch deserved what she got."

"Perhaps," Imam had said diplomatically, although the haunted look in his eyes told her that he was deeply disturbed by her outburst. "Nevertheless, I believe it made Mr. Riddick realize that no matter how much he might want to start over, the price on his head was such that the bounty hunters and mercenaries would never let him. And he could not bring himself to subject you to the kind of life that he knew he was destined to live… a life on the run and in hiding. He cared a great deal about you, Jack."

"He told you that?" she had asked.

"Not with those exact words, but yes, he did."

"Then, why did he leave before I even came out of cryo? Why, if he cares so damn much about me, did he sneak away like a coward in the night? Why didn't he at least say good-bye?" Jack had demanded fighting back tears.

"Because, child, he knew that if he stayed that long, you would try to go with him, regardless of what either of us said. He anticipated that you would try to stow away with him and he realized just how dangerous that could be... for both of you."

_Well, they've got me there,_ she thought. _I probably would've stowed away. I just don't see that it's such a big deal. I care for Riddick; he cares for me- BAM! Everybody happy. And it's not like I haven't spent enough time moving and hiding myself._

Jack suddenly shook herself back to the present. _Where did all that shit come from?_ she wondered. _Maybe it's because Imam's getting married. He gets a new life and gets me thinking about mine. Jeez, I'm gettin' sentimental._

"Snap out of it, Jack," she chided herself aloud. Jack turned her attention to the opening of the pipe and noticed that the western sky was beginning to lighten, the energy beacons beaming up from the surface of New Mecca were fading into the brightness of the coming dawn.

_Uh-oh, almost morning. Better get back before Imam wakes up or I'm gonna catch some serious hell._ She scrambled out of the pipe, quickly made her way back to Imam's house and climbed back to her room. Once there, she waited until she heard the sounds of Imam making breakfast below, then she also descended to join him in preparing for his big day.

**

* * *

****A/N: **

I just wanted to thank all those who've left me feedback so far. I really appreciate the support. Also, I hope the lack of an active Riddick presence in this part of the story doesn't turn off too many people. Stick with me, he'll be coming back eventually, but as I said in the summary, this is primarily Jack's story (although there's a fair amount of Toombs and Kyra as well... what can I say, they're fun to write).

As you may have noticed, I DO NOT consider Jack and Kyra to be the same person. How exactly Kyra gets where she is in TCoR will be explained in future chapters.

My current plan is to post approximately one chapter each weekday until I run out of written chaps.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

After the wedding, Jack, Imam and Lajjun spent some time working to get settled into the new rhythms of living together. Once they had begun to get comfortable with one another, Lajjun gently reminded Imam that Jack should be in school. He explained that he had wanted to give Jack time to acclimate to New Mecca and his home before pushing her into another new environment. At that point, Lajjun pointed out that they had been there for almost six standard months and innocently inquired how much longer Jack's acclimation might take. Three days later, Jack found herself bustled off to a counselor's office for placement tests.

Jack had always been smart, especially in mathematics. It was one of the only things that had moderately distinguished her from the rabble before she ran away. The teachers had called her "precocious" and said she had a "unique gift." One of her group-parents had once marveled that at 8 years old she could easily do math that he had trouble with at 45. Jack had secretly thought that was because he was an uneducated dumbass, but she'd wisely kept that little observation to herself.

It was rarely a good thing to be the "smart-kid" in the group homes where she had lived. Invariably, at each new home one of the older kids would give her crap over the fact that she actually liked to learn and was good at it. At that point, the bullies had learned that she also liked to fight and was pretty good at that too. In spite of - or perhaps because of- the fights, Jack took pride in her intelligence. She'd taken pains to continue studying as much as possible even while she moved around. It hadn't been easy, since she'd had to steal most of the books she used to study, but she hoped that eventually if she learned enough she might be able to use it to get into a good flight school. As a pilot or navigator, she would be able to see the universe at will and she relished that thought.

"Since we have no previous school records for you, they will need to test you. To determine in which school form to place you," Imam told her. "This will tell us your level of ability, child, and show which direction to take with your education."

Imam escorted her to a low slung office building with a sign our front that proclaimed it to be the New Mecca School System – Office of Student Placement and Evaluation. Jack felt a little thrill run through her at the thought of the tests. She knew that she could impress him and she looked forward to the pride she would see when he realized how smart she was.

Inside a mousy little man with thick glasses and rather pointy features who reminded her of Paris Ogilvie met them. Jack was amused to note that he was a couple of inches shorter than her; she could see the pink of his scalp through the thinning hair on top of his head.

"Welcome, Professor Walid. We spoke earlier," he said in an obsequious manner and shook hands with Imam. "I am so pleased to have the opportunity to assist Jack with placement in our school system."

"And you must be Jack," he simpered turning to face her. "I am Walter Greeland, but the young people like to call me Uncle Walty." He reached to pat her head, and she ducked to the side glaring at him.

Before she could utter an appropriately cutting remark, she felt Imam's hand tighten on her shoulder and recalled that she had promised him she would try to watch her language. Imam didn't feel that what he liked to call "colorful expletives" would make a very good impression on the school official. She bit the side of her cheek and stepped out of reach of the greasy little man.

"Thank you, Mr. Greeland," she said deliberately emphasizing his name. There was no fucking way she was going to refer to him as "Uncle Walty." The very thought of doing so made her skin crawl.

Greeland didn't seem to notice her refusal to use the moniker he had offered, and without missing a beat, he turned and led them up a short flight of stairs and into a small office. He sat behind a large metal desk and gestured for them to have a seat in a pair of uncomfortable looking plastic and metal chairs situated in front of it.

They seated themselves, and he began shuffling through the desk. Several minutes later he finally extracted two data chips and held them up with a toothy smile. "Here we are," he said in a too chipper voice. "Don't worry, we've got lots of activities for both of you today."

Greeland stood and moved quickly to the office door. "If you'll just follow me, we can get you started."

As they stood, Jack rolled her eyes at Imam in a silent plea for deliverance from the bureaucratic little man. Imam's lips quirked slightly, as though he was suppressing a smile, and he gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze.

They followed Greeland down a long institutional hallway to a large room sectioned into small soundproof cubicles with computer stations in each one. He showed Imam to one and plugged one of the data chips into the reader slot.

"All right, now, Prof. Walid. What I need you to do, is just give us as much background information as you have on young Jack, here. I realize, given the circumstances that it may be incomplete, but just do the best you can," he told Imam. The way he said the word 'circumstances' forced Jack to once more clench her teeth to keep from putting Greeland in his place. Jack was beginning to truly dislike the man, but she kept her peace because she was still eager to surprise Imam with her aptitude on the tests.

* * *

After settling Imam, Greeland turned and beckoned for Jack to follow. She reluctantly did so, keeping her distance to discourage him from trying to touch her again. Greeland led her to a second cubicle and inserted the other data chip into the station reader.

"Okay, sweetie, now this is just going to ask you a series of questions in several different areas," he told her in his syrupy voice as though he was speaking to a very small child. "Answer as many as you can, but don't be afraid to skip any you don't know. This is mainly just to give us a general idea of what level you are at so that we can identify which other tests we need to give you. It'll help us fine-tune a plan to bring you up to speed in our school system. We have some very challenging courses of study, and we wouldn't want you to feel lost by placing you in classes that might be a bit over your head."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it," Jack said flatly, bristling at his insinuation that she wouldn't measure up to the standards of his school. She cursed Greeland thoroughly in her head coming up with a few creative combinations that she thought might make Imam blush in spite of his dark skin had she spoken them aloud.

Jack stood staring at Greeland until he began to fidget a bit. She had no intention of sitting at the computer station until the creepy man had left. _Come on, take the fucking hint,_ she thought while meeting his eyes in an unblinking stare. She had watched Riddick do something similar with Paris while they were on the planet. He had caught her watching him and grinned conspiratorially after the antiques dealer scurried away.

"Well, ah… I have several other things to take care of, so I'll just leave you to it…" he said clearing his throat. " Um… When you finish, just press this button and I'll be notified." He indicated a round black button on the doorframe. He stood for a moment longer, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then, Greeland quickly closed the cubicle door, turned, and bustled away from her like a mouse from a cat.

_Just like Riddick,_ she mused with a wicked grin as she finally seated herself. _I'll do you proud, Big Guy. Even if you aren't around to see it. _

Jack quickly worked her way through the questions on the test. Nothing was particularly challenging, not even the history, which was her weakest subject. "Just how dumb do you think I am?" she pondered aloud as she finished the hundredth and final question- a ridiculously simply single integral- after only 35 minutes. Without getting up, she tilted her chair back and stretched her arm to press the button.

Jack only had to wait a few moments before Greeland came scuttling back. As he opened the door to the cubicle, she stood and leaned against the edge of the desk well to the right of the computer terminal with her arms crossed. She worked on putting as much of a 'don't touch me' vibe as possible into her stance.

Greeland glanced at her, then quickly ejected the data chip from the computer and plugged it into a small portable reader. He pressed a series of buttons along the side of the reader and data began scrolling across the screen. When the information stopped scrolling, he glanced up at her then pressed a different series of buttons, which caused additional data to scroll across the small screen. Eventually, he looked up at her warily with his brow furrowed.

"So how'd I do?" Jack asked impatiently.

Greeland looked quickly from Jack to the reader and then back to Jack. He frowned again and then commanded, "Wait right here."

Greeland was back within a couple of minutes. He held up another data chip. "Let's try this one, shall we?" he said as he inserted it into the bay on the computer. He queued up the test and then left without another word.

Jack stared after him in confusion. She knew she had done well on the first exam. A lot of the stuff on the test was stuff she had studied before she ran away from the group-home. _What the hell got into the little worm?_ she wondered. She shrugged and sat down to tackle the next test.

_This is a little more like it,_ she thought as she began answering questions. This second test was all math and science, and it actually had a couple of questions that she had to think about. There was even a cool one involving star jump coordinate calculations with a need to take into account the effects of a small quantum singularity. She enjoyed answering that one because star-nav was one of her favorite areas. She'd actually pretty much decided that navigation was the direction she wanted to go instead of piloting.

Nevertheless, when she finished the final question, Jack noted that only 58 minutes had elapsed since she started. She pressed the button. Greeland appeared almost immediately, startling Jack. _Man, where was he lurking? He must have been waiting right down the hall._

Once again, he popped the data chip out of her station and into his handheld. He punched the buttons and waited for the dataflow to stop. He then looked at her again- his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. Jack raised her eyebrows expectantly. Without a word he turned and marched down the hall. "What the fuck?" Jack muttered in confusion.

Rat-man, as Jack had begun to think of Greeland, was back shortly with another data chip. They repeated the process several more times in the same pattern- Jack tore through the questions, Greeland analyzed the results, frowned, left and then returned with yet another test. After the sixth test, Jack decided to put a stop to the nonsense, but apparently, Greeland had decided the same thing. Before she could voice her indignation, he opened the door and said, "Follow me."

* * *

He led her to a small room with only a large metal table and a bare wooden chair. The room reminded her of an interrogation room she had seen in a vid about cops on a space station. "Sit," he snipped and left quickly. He returned with a sheaf of paper- actual paper- and placed it in front of her along with a pen. He then turned and left once more. Jack heard the small beep and the click of a lock engaging. She quickly checked the door confirming her suspicions; it was locked.

"What the hell kind of place is this?" she asked the empty room. She kicked the table leg in frustration before sitting down and riffling through the thick pile of papers: another math/science test.

Jack worked her way through the problems on the test. This one was actually pretty challenging and she knew she missed a few. There were several theoretical questions that she remembered reading some stuff about, but she didn't remember the correct formula for the calculation. Jack settled for writing down what she did know and then left it at that.

When she was finished, she stacked the sheets of paper and looked around for a button like the one she had pressed before. She didn't spot one, but realized that they must have been watching her somehow because the lock beeped open and Greeland entered the room. He grabbed the papers from the table, gave her a nasty smile and exited, once more locking the door behind him. Jack rattled the door briefly and pounded on it, but to no avail. She sat back down, irritation written on her face. She would just have to wait for them to come back.

Jack squirmed in the hard wooden chair, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. How long had she been here? It seemed like an eternity, but the digital display on her watch assured her it had only been 7 hours. _Yeah, right. ONLY 7 hours,_ she fumed. _How many damn placement tests could they possibly have in this place?_

Jack's stomach rumbled loudly in the too quiet room reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She considered trying the door again, but decided not to give them the satisfaction. Instead, she stood and began pacing the small room. Her irritation and confusion over her treatment combined with her growing hunger, placing Jack in a truly foul mood.

* * *

The next time the door beeped, Jack whirled and stood facing it hands on her hips. The door slid open to reveal Imam and Greeland standing outside. "Imam," she snarled. "What the hell kind of fucking, insane slam have you brought me to?"

Confusion stamped itself on Imam's features as he looked from Jack to Greeland, back to Jack and then once more to Greeland. "What is going on here?" he asked in his quiet voice. "Why is this child upset?"

"Upset? Upset!" Jack repeated her voice rising with her anger. "I'm pretty fucking far past 'upset'!"

Greeland sneered back at her, "Alright, you little brat, how'd you do it? What, you've got some sort of transmitter? Someone outside helping you?"

Then it hit her. They thought she had cheated on the placement exams. Jack looked at Greeland in shock, her mouth opening and closing as her mind tried to come to grips with the idea that Greeland was actually of accusing her of cheating on the tests. Greeland's mouth kept moving, but she couldn't hear him over the roar of blood in her ears. Jack turned away, eyes running over the small empty room. She felt the heat growing in her face and her breath came in short pants as a deep rage roiled up out of her. Jack gradually became aware that she could hear Greeland's words again.

"…really only cheating yourself," he stated with a petulant tone that gave her the impression he expected her to fall to her knees and confess her sins or something.

Jack rounded on the little man, her eyes blazing green fury. She stalked toward him with her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Part of Jack's brain noted with calm detachment the concern, which washed across Imam's face as she turned and he saw her expression. The concern was quickly replaced by fear as she began stalking toward Greeland.

Jack tensed her arm and drew her fist back preparing to attack the obnoxious little toad who apparently didn't recognize the danger he was in because he was still standing there, hands on hips, with a malicious sneer plastered across his face. Just before she launched herself at Greeland, Imam stepped between Jack and her prey and grasped her by the shoulders.

"Jack, snap out of this," his deep voice commanded as he gave her a small shake. She tore her eyes from Greeland's face and attempted to focus on Imam. "Child, you must release this anger. We must discuss this like rational beings."

Jack took a deep breath. Imam still held her shoulders as though he was afraid to release her before he was certain she wouldn't attack Greeland. Jack breathed deeply again, closed her eyes and nodded. She let the overwhelming rage die back down until she felt a controlled level of righteous fury. She forced her body to relax, looked back at Imam and nodded again to assure him that she was now okay.

Imam turned to Greeland, "What evidence do you have that she cheated?"

"Other than the fact that she acted like she was about to murder me, just now?" he whined.

_He doesn't know how fucking close to right he is,_ Jack thought as she felt the rage begin to heat again and deliberately forced it under control.

"Yes," Imam insisted. "Physical evidence. Why do you accuse this child of such a thing?"

Greeland thrust a palm reader at Imam and waited while the cleric scanned down the rows of information. Imam looked up at Greeland in confusion. " These scores are exemplary, what is the problem? It is good that she did so well."

"These scores ARE exceptional," Greeland agreed snatching the palm reader away from Imam and gesturing with it madly. "In fact, that's the problem. Do you realize that some of this stuff is advanced university level mathematics? There's no way some snot-nosed, thirteen-year-old, runaway punk could do this well!"

_That's it,_ Jack realized. _He accused me because I'm a runaway, because I don't come from a nice "normal" family._ Jack's entire body felt heavy and exhausted as though she had just run a long race. The realization swept over her that even in New Mecca, a city renowned for its openness and acceptance of all peoples, she didn't fit in. To many people, she would always be a "runaway punk" who was leaching off a man who was too kind to make her leave.

"We have a very strict policy about cheating here," Greeland said maliciously as she looked at him. "I'm not certain we will be able to find a place for someone like Jack among our student body. Let's face it, she just doesn't belong here!"

At his cruel statement, Jack jerked like she'd been hit. Her eyes went to Imam's face and the tender concern written there shocked her and almost demolished her barriers.

_NO!_ she snarled to herself. _I'll be damned if I break down here. There is no fucking way I'm gonna let Rat-man see me cry. _

Jack took firm hold of her emotions and brushed past the two men in the doorway. "Fuck off," she snarled before anyone could say a word to stop her. She stormed out of the building, ignoring Imam's pleas to wait. She started running when she hit the street level and did not stop until she reached her pipe.

She crawled into her concrete haven and wrapped her arms around her midsection hugging herself. She wished that Riddick were there to comfort her as he had after they left Chillingsworth's ship. She needed his strength.

Unfortunately, the thought of Riddick reminded her that he had left her too. She didn't fit into his life any better than she fit into the pattern of New Mecca. She didn't fit anywhere. The despair that was rising in her chest threatened to overwhelm Jack as surely as her rage had earlier.

"Stop being such a baby," Jack commanded herself trying to regain control of her roiling emotions. It was no use. She curled into a tight ball and cried silently until she fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:**

I hope, I didn't get too ansgty there. ;) I've known a number of gifted kids who got a lot of bureaucratic crap from the public school system simply for being smart (something they should be praised for). Truth be told, I channeled a little of my own resentment toward certain nasty teachers I had in Junior High and High School.

TotallyRiddickObsessed: Thanks for the feedback. I'm glad my story caught your attention. As for this being Riddick/Jack... that's the plan. However, I'm sticking to canon, so he's spending the next five years on the UV planet. Besides, she's got some growing up to do in the mean time. For the moment, the primary pairing is Kyra/Toombs with a very small bit of Jack/OMC.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary:** Aftermath of Jack's flight from placement office and a brief sketch of her life story in her own words.

**Notes:** I played with a POV shift in this from 3rd person to a brief 1st person. I feel it works better and is more readable than just a big block of dialog. Let me know what you think.

**Chapter Six**

Jack jerked awake at the sound of screaming. She realized that it was her own voice echoing back to her along the length of the pipe. Another dream, only this one had been different. The details of the nightmare came back to her. Instead of the hammerhead that usually haunted her, this time Walter Greeland chased her through the bone-strewn landscape. Once again, she rolled under a large protective bone. Greeland leapt atop it and started yelling invectives at her as he pounded on the brittle covering. As he began to break through, his mouth opened. The knifelike teeth of the hammerheads filled his gaping maw causing her to scream with unbridled terror.

"Freaky," Jack said shaking off the remnants of the dream. She ran her hands over her scalp smoothing the two-inch hair away from her face. She then rolled her head around popping the vertebra at the base of her neck. Finally, she stretched fully along the length of the pipe almost like a cat. Jack winced as her muscles protested. "Okay, so sleeping in a drainage pipe- not as comfortable as it once was, huh, Jack? I think I'm gettin' soft."

At last fully awake, Jack clambered to the exit of the pipe and dropped lightly to the ground. The sky was dark except for Helion Prime's signature energy beacons lancing upward into the darkness. She keyed the light on her chrono and was startled when the display read '01:45'.

"SHIT!" she exclaimed, turning to scramble up the short slope that led to the fence opening. "Imam's gonna have kittens!"

At the fence, she quickly checked to make sure no one was around to see her then slipped over. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Jack took off running. She raced home as quickly as she could, and then tore up the pathway to the front door of the house. Here, she stopped briefly to catch her breath and decide what to say. Her heart pounded in her chest from having run the two kilometers or so from her hiding place… or was it from fear at what Imam might say and do about her extreme tardiness?

Jack steeled herself for the confrontation that was sure to come and then pressed her hand to the lock pad beside the door. The lock clicked open and the door swung silently inward, on well-oiled, old-fashioned hinges. Jack stepped cautiously through the portal and looked around. Her body tensed almost as though she expected an attacker to spring out at her. She quickly spied Imam, sitting in a corner of the main living area in one of a pair of large, wingback chairs. The only light in the large room came from several candelabras holding thick, waxy pillars.

Jack moved carefully forward; in the dim light, she couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. He hadn't yelled or even spoken yet, so she thought perhaps he had fallen asleep waiting for her. She got to a distance of about 3 meters from him and realized that he was, indeed, awake as he turned his eyes to meet hers. He seemed old, weary, and rather sad- a vague shadow of the pleasant, optimistic man that he normally was. They regarded each other for a long moment, neither moving nor speaking. Imam finally broke the stillness by waving to the other large chair.

"Please, Jack, join me. We need to speak. It is a conversation that, I believe, has been delayed for too long," he requested quietly.

"Imam, I…" she started to explain, but he silenced her with a raised hand.

"Jack, child, please. Listen first," he said his voice a low soft rumble. "I am not angry. Neither about your flight from the placement office this afternoon, nor about you staying out so late. I was worried when you did not return for supper and I must admit that I am a bit hurt that you did not choose to share your pain with me instead of running away. But, I am not angry."

At the mention of supper, Jack's stomach rumbled traitorously in the quiet room and she realized that the last time she had eaten was breakfast that morning before they went to the placement office. She pressed her fist against it and glanced sheepishly at Imam to see if he'd heard. Apparently, he had; he gave her a wan smile then stood.

"Wait here, please," he said then walked to the kitchen. He quickly returned with a large plate of food and a glass of juice. He placed it on the small table between the chairs. "You must be famished. Please, eat. I can speak while you assuage your hunger."

Needing no further enticement, Jack sat and dug into the plate of food with ravenous gusto. Imam smiled at her obvious enthusiasm for the long overdue meal. He then lapsed into silence as though trying to find the words to express what he wanted to say. By the time he spoke, she was already over halfway through the generous plate, and her eating had slowed to a more normal pace.

Imam spoke in a soft, even, concern-laced voice, "First, with regard to the placement office, I wish that you had stayed a bit longer. After you left, I spoke to Mr. Greeland's superior, Mr. Sung. I showed him your test scores and explained how Mr. Greeland had treated you. Mr. Sung agreed with me, there is absolutely no reason to believe that you cheated on those tests. The accusations that Mr. Greeland leveled at you were rooted in Greeland's own prejudices and had no basis in fact. Based on your outstanding test scores, Mr. Sung has offered you your choice of placement at any of several excellent schools. You have but to choose what you wish to study."

He stopped speaking momentarily, gathering his thoughts. A look of wonderment stole across Jack's face. She could go to a flight school; she could study piloting and navigation. She started to speak, but Imam delayed her once again with a raised hand.

"I know that you are used to being on your own," he continued, leaning forward for emphasis. "That fact was self-evident, even when we first met. I realize that you can make-do without another's help. But child, you no longer have to make your own way. I am here to help you with your burdens.

"Please, you haven't chosen to share your tale with me, but I would genuinely like to hear it. Perhaps, if I can understand from whence you come, we will be better able to plot a course for your life that will allow you to make the greatest use of your talents."

Imam was quiet once more. He leaned back in his chair and regarded her levelly. Jack stared down at her plate, idly pushing a few stray bits of fat from the meat around with her fork, then set the plate back on the table between them. She slipped off her shoes, glad for once, that Imam had talked her into wearing a pair of simple loafers instead of her boots; the loafers were a lot easier to take off. She pulled her legs up in front of her and rested her chin on her knees with her arms wrapped protectively around her shins.

Jack glanced at Imam, who sat patiently waiting in the chair across from her. She wasn't comfortable talking about herself and her past, but she figured she owed him, considering how kind he'd been. Haltingly, Jack began speaking…

* * *

I was born on one of the border worlds. A little backwards, nowhere, mining colony called Galatea. I don't really remember my parents; they died when I was too young. I got the story of what happened from my records before I left. 

Both my parents were miners. On Galatea, the primary product is cerelite; you've probably heard of it, since it's used in a lot of ships' systems. Unfortunately, the stuff has a tendency to decompose into a rather volatile gas. According to my file, it was a blowout. The mine had filled with the gas and then there was a spark. Next thing you know, I'm an orphan.

It's a pretty common story. Life's just tough on the border worlds. You'll find lots of kids out there with about the same tale- there sure were a lot of us in the system on Galatea. Because there are so many kids, they use a group, foster-care system. Basically, folks get paid by Galatean Mining Incorporated to look after all the orphans. Foster parent is a bona fide profession there. The foster system is even advertised as part of the 'benefits' package when a miner signs on; it's the company's way of 'looking out for the families of the workers'. Whatever.

The truth is that the system tends to shuffle kids around a lot. I once played a game where you moved small weights around on a board to try to get the board to balance. That's pretty much what the GMI foster care system felt like; only, I was one of the weights.

All total, I spent time in thirty-six different foster homes. Most of them weren't too bad. Some were pretty awful, but fortunately, the awful ones were all relatively short stays. I had it better than a lot of kids, especially after I started school, and the teachers realized that I was smart. GMI generally makes sure the smart kids get put into the better homes. I think it's kind of a return on investment thing; they figure that if they help the smart kids along, they can pull them into the workforce. Once again, whatever—like you need to be a fucking genius to scrabble for ore.

At any rate, I figured out quickly that I really enjoyed studying. I didn't do it to get extra attention; it was kind of an escape for me. I devoured anything the teachers would give me, which was a lot considering the GMI policy on smart kids. Of course, the other kids in the foster system tended to pick on the smart ones a lot more than on anyone else. Apparently, they didn't get the note about the policy. Or maybe they did and it pissed them off, so they decided to make life a living hell for any 'smart kids' who came their way. Either way, it doesn't matter; the end result is the same.

When I was six, one of the older boys beat me up and locked me in a closet because he caught me reading for fun. Fortunately, the company organizes the foster homes by age, so he was only a couple of years older than me and he didn't hurt me too bad. He told me that if he caught me reading again, he'd feed me my reader. I spent about ten hours in the closet before the foster-'mom' realized that I hadn't shown up for dinner. You can do a lot of thinking in ten hours, even if you're only six years old.

While I was trapped, I decided I had to do one of two things: get tough and defend myself or stop studying and play dumb. There was no way I was gonna play dumb, so I got tough. I found books in the database about anatomy. I'd looked for stuff about how to fight, but those books were blocked for my age group- something about 'protecting' us from violence. Yeah, right.

But the anatomy stuff was available. I guess they wanted to encourage the kids with a scientific bent to become doctors or something. Or maybe, they just figured that kids my age wouldn't be interested. I like life science almost as much as math and physics, so they were really interesting reading, even though I had to slog through lots of words I didn't know. Most importantly, I figured out where you could hit someone to hurt them.

The next time the bully caught me reading, I gave him a little surprise. I kicked him in the crotch and then punched him in the neck. I kinda got in trouble for that one, but no one bothered me anymore. At least not until, I was bounced to the next foster home; then, I had to prove myself again.

That was always the way at a new place. I'd have to fight some big tough kid to get the other ones to leave me alone. Naturally, I didn't always win, but if you fight enough you get good at it. You learn things by actually fighting that you can't learn from an anatomy book. Plus, if you don't back down, the other kids learn to respect you. That's worth something too.

When you move around that much, you don't make many friends. I mean, what's the point? You're just gonna have to make new ones two months or three months or five months later. So I turned to my books, they kept me from being as lonely.

When I was eight, I got sick. Real sick. Hospital sick. It was some sort of respiratory thing: the kind of sickness that crops up from time to time on new planets. I was really out of it for about three months. I had to have inhaled antivirals several times each day and I had tubes coming of just about every hole they could put them in. Once they'd killed the disease out of my system, I still needed another five months to recover. It was the longest time I spent in one place, ever. I actually made a couple of friends that time. Then the doctors gave me a clean bill of health and shoved me back into the foster system again.

In the next year, they shuffled me through eight different foster homes. Sometimes, I even lost track of which one I was in. I remember a bunch of times I was scolded for calling a foster parent by the wrong name. It was a really shitty time in my life and I'd been thing about cutting and running for a while.

Then I found out that they were gonna move me again- another new 'home'. This one was way out in the wild section of Galatea. I'd heard rumors about it from some of the other kids- not a nice place. The foster 'dad' had a thing for little girls and his wife liked to watch. Why had no one reported the home to the authorities? They had. The authorities never found 'just cause' to shut them down. Apparently, this particular sick-fuck happened to have a brother on the board of GMI. It didn't matter how many times a kid reported him; no one was gonna take the word of a bunch of orphan kids over that of a guy with his connections. The fucking system, again.

I'd been lucky up to that point. The worst I'd experienced was tendency toward apathy from the 'parents'. I realized that my luck had run out. I'd had enough. I decided to leave.

My home at that time was in Galatea City the capital. Now, compared to New Mecca or some of the other big cities on Helion Prime and the core worlds, it was really small, but it did have a big spaceport because all the cerelite was out-shipped through there. The night before, I was supposed to go to the new home, I broke into my foster father's office and stole all the credits I could find. It wasn't much, just a few hundred UD, but it was enough to buy passage on an outgoing transport—one a lot like the Hunter-Gratzner. I was nine years old.

I didn't really expect anyone to come after me. I'd heard of older kids leaving from time to time. No one ever really did anything, except report the vacancy so that GMI could send another kid to fill the gap. Oh, the company people probably put a notice on the net or something; I think that's standard procedure with runaways. But, word travels pretty slowly from the border worlds and I doubt most people expected a nine-year-old to make it off world.

And then, I traveled—seeing the galaxy. Mostly I pretended to be a boy. People mess with you less when they think you're a guy. I was well aware what could happen to a little girl who got picked up by slavers or other unsavory types. There are still those who go after boys, but it's way more dangerous for girls.

Occasionally, I hooked up with couples kinda like Shazza and Zeke- prospector types who took pity on me- for a ride to the next stop. I actually spent a couple of months with one couple, Lexa and Jan Vladovich. They knew I was a girl—kinda hard to live with folks for that long without them finding out. They were nice and I liked them. But then, I got bored with the planet they were working and I left again.

I guess it's because I spent my early years on a border planet without much civilization, but I've never really liked the outer unsettled areas. I like cities. In cities, you can fade into the background. Plus, when you are a kid living off your wits and guts, cities are a much 'richer' area. Yeah, I'm talking about petty crime. By the time, I was ten; I was a proficient pickpocket. I realize that it's not right to steal from people, but I did what I had to for survival. For what it's worth, I always stole from people who looked like they could afford the loss. I know that doesn't really justify stealing, but it made me feel a little better.

And I kept studying; all during my travels, I would study and read as much as possible. I hoped that if I studied hard enough, I might be able to qualify for a flight school, even though I hadn't had a 'normal' education. I'd brought my reader along so I was able to download books at every stop. Most places have pretty good libraries, even the little backwater planets. And libraries are one of those places where you can just hang out and no one will bother you as long as you don't make trouble.

Some of the big cities on the core planets even had real books in their libraries. I couldn't take them with me, of course, but I'd sit in the library and read. I love the real books, especially novels. There's just something about reading an old story from real paper that makes it special. Mostly, though, I used a reader. As you probably know, the library books expire after a couple of weeks, but I figured out how to crack 'em so that I could keep a book on my reader for as long as I liked.

Of course, traveling so much, I spent a lot of time in cryo: more than most people spend in a lifetime. As best I can calculate, it's been about eighteen to twenty years of actual time since I left Galatea, although I've only 'lived' about four and a half years of it. Yeah, if I hadn't left, I'd be almost as old as Riddick. Odd, huh?

Then I got on the Hunter-Gratzner. I picked it at random because it was cheap and it was going to the Tangiers system. I'd never been there and it sounded interesting, what with the prison and all. Oh well, I wanted interesting. I just never expected things to get quite as interesting as they did.

* * *

"I guess, you know the rest," Jack said looking up at Imam. He had listened attentively, without interruption, throughout her recount of her life. 

"That is quite a story, child," Imam said. "I had suspected that you were a runaway from somewhere, but I had no idea of the extent of your travels."

Jack shrugged and grinned, "I don't really like to talk about it much. Most folks don't believe me even if I do. I told Shazza some, but I think she thought I was making it up to seem tougher while we were on the planet."

"Jack, my child, you know there is one thing I have wondered that you have never actually volunteered. What is your given name?"

"Damn, Imam! I haven't told you?" Jack said laughing with a surprised expression. "It's Jacqueline- Jacqueline Audrey Page. But, I've gone by Jack for as long as I can remember, even before I ran away. It made pretending to be a boy easier because I didn't have to remember to answer to a name that wasn't mine, but Jack is who I am."

"Indeed, you are, child," Imam agreed, smiling at her. "Indeed, you are.

"You do realize how fortunate you are that nothing ever happened to you while you traveled; do you not? You have not glossed over the details in an attempt to spare an old man, have you?"

Jack shrugged again, "Naw, not really. I'll admit there were a couple of close calls, but I was never raped or anything if that's what you're hitting at. Like I said, I'd already learned to keep my head down before I left Galatea. Besides, most of the folks, who would hurt a kid, are looking for easy prey and that really ain't me. I'm too damn tough and stubborn for most of them to bother."

"Perhaps you are at that, young one," he agreed with a chuckle, and then asked, "You said that you were nine when you left Galatea, so you are now thirteen?"

"Fourteen, actually," Jack informed him. "In all the fuss, with settling in after we got here and the wedding and everything, I kinda lost track. I just got around to figuring it up a couple weeks ago, I turned fourteen about two weeks after we arrived."

"Jack, why did you not tell me? We should have had a celebration."

"Ah, you don't need to do that, Imam. I never put much stake in birthdays, anyway."

"Well, then, we shall simply have to change that. A birthday is a time to give thanks for one's blessings and to allow others who love you to give thanks that you are part of their lives; it is a celebration of life. Believe me, yours is definitely a life worth celebrating, and I am most certainly thankful to have you as a part of my life. "

Jack blushed at his words and felt tears prickle her eyes. The GMI foster care system had never observed birthdays for its charges, except to shift a kid from one home to another, and that hadn't been an event to celebrate. Then, when she'd been on her own, they had come and gone like her fourteenth birthday without her even noting them until after the fact. Imam's sincere statement warmed her from within. It was similar to what she'd felt when Riddick held her on the shuttle, but there were also significant differences. She did not know how to express the emotions she was feeling. She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat and tried to let her eyes express everything she wished she could put into words. Then, she said simply, "Thanks, Imam."

Imam leaned toward her with a warm, loving smile. He claimed one of her hands, squeezed it fondly, and then told her, "Jack, my child, you are most welcome: in my life and in my heart. I could not love you more if you were my own daughter."

Until that point, she had kept him at arms length, reluctant to really let him inside her barriers. Now, those barriers came crashing down and Jack truly opened her heart to this gentle man, who had so unselfishly taken her in and attempted to make a home for her. Unable to contain her emotions any longer, Jack uncurled from her chair and hugged Imam tightly. She clung to him for a long moment as joyful tears trickled down her cheeks, trying to pour all the love she felt into the embrace.

When she released him, she curled into her chair emotionally drained and once again wrapped her arms around her legs. They sat in companionable silence for a long while.

Finally, Imam spoke, "You know, Jack, there is still one quandary we have not addressed."

At Jack's questioning look, he smiled again, "On which path do you wish to steer your life? As I said earlier, you have your choice of virtually any school you would like. What is it that you would like to do?"

Jack hugged her legs more tightly and shyly stared at her knees for a moment. She, then, looked at Imam with a broad smile, her green eyes sparkling with bright enthusiasm: "I wanna fly, Imam. I wanna travel and see the rest of the universe. I think I wanna be a navigator, or maybe a pilot like Fry."

To herself she also added, _And, I wanna find Riddick. Even if he doesn't want to be found,_ I _need to see him again._


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

As the Undertaker slipped through space toward the planet Aquila Three, Toombs sprawled in the command chair like a king on the throne. He had one leg casually thrown over the arm of the chair and was bouncing his foot in time to a music that only he could hear. As he watched his crew move the ship slowly into orbit, he scratched lazily at a sideburn—the picture of studied boredom. They had finally reached the end of Jericho's sweep to drop all the bounties that Chillingsworth had acquired but never cashed in, and Toombs was ready for some down time before heading back out on another run.

As he lounged, allowing his crew to work, Toombs let his mind drift back over the twenty-four months, since he had promoted himself to Captain and owner of the ship. Things had been going extremely well. During the dry-dock, repair session, Twitch had actually been able to make improvements to the ship that made her better than she'd been when she belonged to Chillingsworth. Moreover, Jericho had apparently been conservative in some of his estimates—they were about a million UD ahead of his original numbers. Then there was Kyra.

His face stretched into a Cheshire-cat grin at the thought of Kyra. He had fully expected his relationship with her to slip into friendly camaraderie when one or both got bored with the sex, but it hadn't. However, much to his surprise, they'd grown closer to one another. It was an odd experience for him. Toombs didn't really have any long-term 'relationships' other than Mare, and with her it wasn't sexual, it was more platonic, like… family. His bond with Kyra was most assuredly not platonic.

He'd also found they worked extremely well together. In the course of cashing in the bounties that Chillingsworth had accumulated, his team had also made numerous new captures to add to the total. Toombs and Kyra had a natural rhythm that made them quite successful when hunting together. They were even developing something of a reputation in the merc world. Another point in Kyra's favor, even Mare liked her. ("You've finally found someone who isn't a total nebula, Gabe," she'd told him recently. "Take my advice and don't fuck it up.")

They were still sparring partners, but because of a tendency for their workouts to end in both of them naked and having sex on the mat, Toombs had built a small private gym into his quarters. It was actually part of Chillingsworth's former conservatory, which had been left empty after they removed all the bounties that she had kept as art. So the sex hadn't gotten boring. In addition to their 'combat training', they had made good use of the myriad nooks and crannies that were inevitably part of a ship that big. One game they liked to play was to stalk one-another to some secluded part of the ship and 'attack'. Through some unspoken agreement, they took turns being the hunter and the hunted—almost like a children's game of tag only with a very grown-up conclusion.

* * *

"Beginning final orbital insertion, Captain," the pilot's voice jerked him from his reverie. Toombs shook off the memory realizing that he had slipped into a light doze. He chuckled quietly to himself at the pilot's choice of words, considering the topic of his thoughts: _'Insertion'…good one!_

"Orbital insertion complete, Captain Toombs," the pilot said formally as he completed the maneuver, innocently unaware of his captain's amusement. He then placed the ship on autopilot and retracted the con station, which had covered his head, while he performed the maneuver.

"Hot damn!" Toombs answered in acknowledgement. He drew himself upright and stretched languidly. "All right, ladies, let's ring the doorbell and see if anybody's home."

The communications officer had grown used to his captain's rather non-standard turn of phrase and immediately hailed ground control and sent the appropriate identification codes. "Aquila Three Control, this is Mercenary Vessel one-niner-seven-two dash oh-six-one-eight, the Undertaker, requesting permission to deploy landing craft."

"Roger that, Undertaker, this is ATC. Permission granted. Welcome to the Aquila system."

"Alright, people," Toombs boomed. "Last stop. Let's get those bounties unloaded so we can grab some well deserved R and R."

Turning to Mare who had appeared beside him he commanded, "Set up a shore leave schedule that'll let everyone have a chance to go stretch their legs."

"Already done," she said, handing him a reader that contained the schedule. "Kyra and I took care of it yesterday."

"Damn, woman, you're too good for me!" he said enthusiastically as he scanned the schedule.

"You're fucking right about that," Kyra agreed as she appeared on his other side and rested a hand on his shoulder. "With regard to both of us."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his hand on her hip pulling her against the side of his chair. "I notice we're on the same shore leave rotation," he rumbled as he gave her a grin.

"One other thing, Gabe," Mare said, before the two got too caught up in each other. "We received a communication from the planet. Someone wants to hire us for a special assignment. It doesn't say what the assignment is, but there is a date and time with an address. And they've offered 50,000 UD just for taking the meeting. What should I tell them?"

"Fifty-K for a fucking meeting? Tell them HELL YES!"

* * *

Toombs dropped into the pilot's seat of the new command shuttle, which he had dubbed the Purgatory. As Twitch had predicted, it had set him back about six million UD, but it was truly a thing of beauty. As he settled himself, Mare slipped into the copilot's chair and Kyra sat down in the seat directly behind him. He ran his hands lovingly over the controls as he powered up the ship's systems, gently caressing the switches on and finally ending with his hands resting on the flight yolk. 

He heard Kyra lean forward behind him. She slipped her hand under his arm… He felt a sharp pinch on his right side, "Hey! What the fuck?"

He swiveled his chair to face her and she gave him a sexy grin, "I'm not gonna have to start getting jealous am I?"

Toombs chuckled and reached to pull Kyra into his lap, then caught sight of Mare sitting across from him wearing a long-suffering expression. He stopped with his hands on Kyra's waist: "Fuck. Almost forgot we're not alone."

Mare crossed her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes then informed them, "Look, children, normally, I'd just leave but we do have an appointment, so could you hold off for just a _little_ longer? That's all I ask, wait till after we have the 50-K and then you can fuck like Tangerian squirrel-rats."

Toombs shifted his eyes to Kyra's face. Her eyes held the promise that they would indeed make good on Mare's suggestion later that evening. "I'm gonna take you up on that," he informed quietly. With another low chuckle, he released her and lightly slapped her ass. He then turned back to the console and finished prepping the ship.

"Strap in, I'm gonna have some fun," he told them with a wicked grin. Toombs expertly guided the big shuttle out of the flight bay and angled it downward through the atmosphere toward San Roma, the capital city of Aquila Three. They had a little more than an hour before the meeting- ample time to see what his new toy could do. After they broke atmosphere, he opened the shuttle up marveling at how maneuverable the large ship was. He executed a series of complex swoops and dives just enjoying the ship's response.

After allowing him about fifteen minutes of fun, Mare claimed his attention with a single word: "Time."

_Damn. But it wouldn't do to miss the meeting and miss out on the money. Besides, I wanna find out who these fuckers are,_ he thought. He had made some discreet inquiries- well, Mare had- but hadn't been able to determine whom his mysterious would-be employer was or why someone would pay 50,000 UD for the privilege of just talking to him. Of course if they were willing to pay it, he was willing to take it. He could always tell them to fuck off as soon as he had it.

He guided the shuttle down to one of the private landing pads that were clustered to the north of the city around its space dock. He'd contracted for three of them to be available while they were in orbit so that his crew could all have a chance for some shore leave. Currently, two of the Pallbearers were parked to the left of the slot where he deftly landed the Purgatory. Toombs turned, grinned at the two women and said, "Well, my beauties, let's go see what the fuck's up."

* * *

The three exited the shuttle, caught a transport pod and arrived at the appropriate place with about 15 minutes to spare. The building was an enormous elegant structure of glass and metal with swirls of ironwork that from a distance looked almost like filigree. Up close they were revealed to be heavy support beams as thick as a person's body in some sections; however, size of the structure and the way the iron had been laid over the building gave the feeling of delicacy. 

The trio paused just inside the revolving doors through which they'd entered the building. The view was impressive. The lobby was an enormous atrium filled with natural light that supported a veritable jungle of exotic plants. To one side of the giant room, a 10-meter tall natural-rock waterfall stood. It sent an unending cascade into a large pool that dominated one side of the room. Surrounding the pool were a series of braziers of varying height that burned in a range of colors. The air was rich with the scent of water vapor and growing things and another spicy odor that Toombs attributed to the torches.

"Lovely," Mare breathed softly, on one side of Toombs.

"Yeah," Kyra agreed also in a soft voice from his other flank. "I especially like the whole fire thing."

"Fucking waste if you ask me," Toombs groused shaking his head and searching for the information desk. He finally spotted it nestled amidst part of the plant life opposite the waterfall. "If you wanna be outside with water and air and shit, just fucking go outside! No need to waste a lotta money bringing that shit inside."

"Gabe, you have no poetry in your soul," Mare informed him with a pained expression.

He grinned back at her. "Fuck poetry in my soul. I'd rather have money in my pocket." Kyra snickered and he dropped an arm companionably around her shoulders as Mare shook her head at his deliberate lack of culture.

As they crossed to the desk, the young lady behind it took looked at them with a vague expression of distaste, but took their names pleasantly enough. After calling up their file on her computer station, she gave them an appraising look as though reevaluating them completely. She then became much friendlier calling Toombs "Sir" and personally guiding them through an almost invisible opening in the tangle of plant life. The leafy corridor led toward the back of the building and eventually opened into another room with a large set of double doors. A smaller pair of fountains, topped with more torches and splashing water into another large pool, flanked the door.

Their guide opened the doors and ushered them through. She then bowed to them and exited closing the portal behind her. The strange room was enormous with dim lighting that cast the walls into shadow. As far as the mercs could tell, the room was empty except for four large throne-like chairs that were covered with intricate carvings. Uncharacteristically silent, Toombs looked at his two companions with a puzzled expression. Both, obviously no more enlightened than him, simply shrugged and moved slightly closer to him automatically stepping into a three point defensive stance.

_This is getting weird. I hate weird. Weird is dangerous; it gets you dead,_ he thought as his frustration mounted. His eyes roved around the room looking for a clue as to why they had been brought here. His hand reflexively moved to a spot on his right hip, which was currently empty. "Wish I had my gun," he muttered under his voice.

At his comment, a melodious voice floated out to greet them from their left. "Your weapon will not be necessary here, Gabriel Toombs."

"Fuck!" Toombs exclaimed as he whirled to face the voice instinctively flexing his knees into a fighting stance. He was pleased to note that the women with him had reacted similarly: _That's my girls._

A slight figure drifted out from the wall gliding over the floor almost as though it was floating. The person was heavily cloaked in a voluminous blue-black robe that completely hid the wearer from view. Toombs couldn't be certain if the person was male or female, but he thought of 'her' as a woman. The voice sounded feminine and she stood only a little over a meter and a half tall. However, in spite of her size, she carried herself as though she were used to authority and expected obedience. When she offered no sign of aggression, Toombs relaxed from the fighting stance, but remained tense and watchful.

The woman moved to the left center chair and sat regally. After she was seated, three other figures detached themselves from the shadows behind the large chairs and claimed their seats. They all wore the same dark colored robes and had the same aura of authority as the first woman. The one who took the other center chair was a massive figure, as large as the first was petite. The giant definitely had a masculine aura. He stood at least two meters tall and was a good meter wide. There was a sense of solidity about him that gave one the impression that none of his bulk was from fat.

The other two were both moderately built. The one on the right was only a few centimeters shorter than the big guy and moved with a sinewy liquid grace. Toombs got a male vibe from this one as well. The final figure- whose movements made Toombs think female- seemed to snap with scarcely contained energy as though she could explode into motion at any moment. For a long time the figures sat simply regarding them or so it seemed; the trio of mercs couldn't actually see the figures' faces to tell where they were looking. Altogether, it was like being peasants in the presence of kings and queens and it definitely pissed off Toombs.

"Okay, where's the money you promised me?" he snapped as he reached the end of his patience and they still had not spoken. "Not that this whole 'lord of the manor' thing ain't fun-it ain't-but I only came here for one reason."

The original petite woman made a small motion with her hand. A tall dark-haired man in impeccable business attire stepped from the shadows to their right and crossed the room carrying a small metal tray. _Just how many people are they hiding back there anyway?_ Toombs thought in annoyance.

As the man neared them, Toombs discerned the distinctive rectangular shape of a credit chip sitting on the tray. Mr. Businessman stopped directly across from Toombs and presented the tray with a flourish. Toombs sneered at the man and grabbed the card. Unfazed, the man bowed slightly and disappeared into the shadows from whence he came.

Toombs glanced at the card then passed it to Mare. She inspected it briefly then slipped it into a slot on the small reader she unclipped from her belt. The screen flashed immediately verifying the authenticity of the card and then displayed 'UD 50,000'. Mare smiled tightly and nodded to Toombs before clipping the reader with the card still inside back into its holster.

After the exchange, the robed woman's voice floated to them once more, "Did you not trust that we would pay you the money we had freely offered you, Mr. Toombs?"

"Hey, listen, sweetheart, it's nothin' personal," he told her. "I trust everyone, but I still cut the cards. Now, you've paid a pretty amount for my attention. What the hell do you want?"

"We wish to hire you, of course," the giant finally spoke; his voice was a deep bass rumble that reminded Toombs of distant thunder.

"No shit! And here I thought you'd paid me all that money cause you wanted to invite me to tea."

"There is an individual we wish for you to retrieve for us. Our indications are that she even spent some time on your ship," the tall thin figure stated ignoring Toombs' sarcasm. His soft tenor voice flowed like liquid, an extension of his physical demeanor. The arm of his robe moved, and the businessman reappeared, this time bearing a reader. He presented the reader to Toombs, bowed again and once more disappeared into the shadows.

Toombs looked at the name that was displayed on the reader: Page, Jacqueline Audrey. _Never heard of her._ It included a picture of a pretty girl of 15 or 16 with chin length brown hair. From the set of her jaw and the expression in her eyes, Toombs surmised she'd probably be a hellion, but she didn't look familiar.

"Cute kid, but I've never seen her. She damn sure wasn't on my ship. We ain't got any kids, just a bunch of mercs," he informed the robed foursome.

"Please continue reading, Mr. Toombs. Perhaps something may strike a chord," the big guy requested.

Toombs clicked through the pages of data on the screen. It was pretty standard stuff: date and place of birth, some school records, list of planets visited and durations in cryo. There were images of her at a variety of different ages. He almost laughed aloud when he saw the words 'Known Alias: Jack B. Badd' attached to a picture of her with a shaven head. Apparently the kid was a runaway, but somehow and for some reason, these people had info tracking her around the known galaxy.

_Shit, this kid has done some traveling,_ he thought with respect as his eyes scanned the list of planets she'd visited. Finally, his gaze landed on a very familiar name in the section labeled 'Known Associates.' The hair on the back of his neck rose as Toombs snarled, "Riddick."

Then he remembered. _She must be the kid that Riddick had with him when Chillingsworth picked him up._

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the group seated across the room, but admitted cautiously, "Yeah, I've seen her before. What the hell does this have to do with me?"

"We believe that she may have information regarding the current whereabouts of Richard B. Riddick. We would like for you to retrieve her for us so that we may obtain this information," the skinny guy told him matter-of-factly.

"You want me to kidnap a… well… a kid?" he asked genuinely shocked. "Look, people, I don't know what you've heard about me, but I'm a legitimate business man. I don't generally go around abductin' teenagers unless they're wanted by the law. I didn't see anything in this file to indicate that."

"We are willing to pay you handsomely," the first woman said reassuringly. "And once we have the information about Riddick's location, we would also be interested in contracting with you for his retrieval as well. The fee would be 750,000 UD for retrieval of the child and then an additional 1.5 million UD when we have Riddick."

"Hey, I'll be happy to fetch Riddick for ya. I owe that boy a big one. I just don't feel too keen on grabbing a kid."

The woman stood and moved a step forward. A note of intractable steel permeated her musical voice. "Please note that it is our desire that the same mercenary company perform both halves of the job. If you are unable to perform the first portion, then we will not be contracting with you for the second portion."

Toombs turned to Mare and Kyra with his annoyance at being manipulated plain on his face. "I don't go for this cloak-and-dagger shit. What do you think? "

"I don't know, Gabe," Mare said eyeing their would-be employers. "I don't trust 'em. Something just don't seem right, here. Like maybe we're getting in over our heads."

"Yeah, Toombs," Kyra agreed. "I know it's a lot of money, but those people make me prickly. This could turn out real bad."

Toombs nodded. He hated to let go of a chance to nab Riddick, but this didn't feel right to him either.

As he prepared to refuse the offer, the robed woman's voice reached them again. "I strongly urge you to agree to our most generous offer, Mr. Toombs. You see; we found some interesting information about you and your ship in our research. It seems you were listed as being in the employ of an Antonia Chillingsworth who owned a ship called the Kubla Khan. That ship was lost some time back… Right around the time your Undertaker arrived on the scene."

The words hung in the air between them as Toombs turned to face them once more. "Are you threatenin' my ship?"

"Not at all, Mr. Toombs," she responded. "But a mercenary ship is not much use unless it is on the hunt for bounties. Investigations can take months, even years. What is the old saying… 'Time is money'? It would be very regretful- and I'm sure most expensive- if you were forced to remain here while the authorities made a full official investigation into the Kubla Khan' disappearance."

"They've got us over a barrel, Gabe," Mare said from behind him, echoing his own thoughts.

Toombs snarled with barely contained fury. These people were playing hardball- there was no way to get his crew back to the Undertaker and break orbit before Port Control completely locked them down. Well, he wasn't going to give up the ship. He had spent too many years scraping by from one bounty to the next to let go of it that easily now that he had it. "Looks like you've bought yourself a boat of mercs. But I got one question… Why'd ya have to pick me to fuck with, huh? There's plenty of lowlifes out there who wouldn't bat an eye at grabbin' this kid. Why not hire one of them?"

"Simple, Mr. Toombs. We wish her to be returned to us, shall we say, undamaged. If your reputation is accurate, you will do this for us where other 'lowlifes' might not," the fourth figure finally spoke in a warm, husky, feminine voice. "Besides, you have encountered Richard B. Riddick in person and lived to tell the tale. As you probably know, that is a rather uncommon feat among the ranks of mercenaries."

* * *

A/N: 

I wanted to thank everyone who has posted feedback. I must say, it warms my heart and I get excited each time I read a new comment.

As for Riddick/Jack soon, it'll be a while. But Riddick WILL be in the story later. Like I said, this is Jack's story and she's still just a kid. I really like the Riddick/Jack pairing, but she needs to be old enough and experienced enough that it will be a relationship between equals not between an adult and a hero-worshipping child. The second is (quite frankly) rather squicky to me. So, Riddick fans, bear with me, and please keep reading.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Jack sat hunched at a computer terminal in the simulation lab of the Helion Advanced Flight Academy (HAFA). It was late, but Jack didn't mind. Earlier, she had shared the lab with several companions, but the others had gradually abandoned their studies for other pursuits, leaving her alone. Jack actually enjoyed the solitude because there were no distractions as she worked.

She and Imam had chosen HAFA from the available schools because it offered an accelerated program that would qualify her as a deep space navigator more quickly than the other options. She was a bit younger than some of the other students, but she wasn't the youngest in the program. That particular credit went to a pair of genius twins, Lisa and Lara Haare, who were ten.

Many of the other students avoided the twins. Shortly after she started at HAFA, Jack had heard someone describe them as 'spooky' because they seemed to communicate with one another without speaking. Jack made friends with them anyway, figuring they couldn't possibly be any more 'spooky' than a certain silver-eyed outlaw. She had found it was well worth the effort.

Unlike many schools for students Jack's age, HAFA did not work on an age-based grade level system. Instead, the school had six 'forms' through which a student could advance at his or her own pace based entirely on ability and merit. Jack had been placed in the second form upon entering the school. In the year and a half that she had attended HAFA, she had completed the second and third forms and was well into the fourth form. She anticipated that she would be able test into fifth form within another couple of months—one reason she had stayed so late that night.

Jack focused on the computer screen in front of her, intent upon the navigation problem she was tackling. It was a tough problem requiring her to plot a safe, shortest-time course through a region with a red giant and a small quantum singularity, but she was almost finished. She was so absorbed in the problem, that she did not notice a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed boy of about eighteen enter the deserted lab carrying a small white box. He stopped briefly in the doorway and stared at her for a long moment. He then threaded his way stealthily through the rows of computer stations taking great care not to be heard until he was right behind her.

Jack sensed a presence; instinctively, she tensed and stopped working. She heard a movement behind her and simultaneously went into action herself. As the boy thrust the box in front of her and yelled, "Happy Birthday, Jack!", she spun her chair around clockwise, whipped out her right foot sweeping his left leg and then surged forward knocking him backward to the floor. She finally landed straddling him with her hand on his throat. The white box went flying and skidded to a stop several feet away from them.

The boy stared at her a moment in shock, then his face broke into a broad grin. "Well, that'll teach me to try to surprise a pretty girl on her birthday."

Jack looked from the boy to the box and back. "Dammit, Rob Harris, I've told you not to sneak up on me! Are you all right?"

"It's okay, Jack," he said, smirking as he looked significantly at her chest. "It was worth it if only for the view."

Jack glanced down following the line of his eyes. She was wearing a thin tank top with a low-scooped neck. When she had headed to the lab that evening, she had worn a thick sweater over the tank. The sweater now sat beside her computer station where she had discarded it earlier when she got too warm. She now discovered that the tank was more revealing than she had previously realized. Rob was staring at the inner curve of her small breasts, which were exposed by the gaping neck of her shirt as she leaned over him. Suddenly self-conscious, Jack blushed and stood awkwardly. She pressed her left palm against her chest holding the fabric against her skin then offered her other hand to Rob to pull him up.

"You're a fucking pervert," she told him matter-of-factly as she helped him to his feet.

"Nope, I'm a guy," he responded with a grin. "Best get used to it. We make up about half the population."

Jack rolled her eyes and pulled her sweater back on as he retrieved the box. "What's this?" she asked has he proffered it to her.

"Open it."

Cautiously, Jack lifted the lid to reveal four small, rather battered looking cakes. They were the dark brown of devil's food chocolate and bore the letters of her name in a slightly smeared, deep red gel. Rob stepped behind her and peered into the box over her shoulder. She looked back at him in amazement and her voice caught in her throat. "Where'd ya get 'em?" she asked.

"Made 'em. They looked a little better before their unscheduled flight, but I s'pose they'll still eat just fine," he said pleasantly as he dropped an arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. "Look, I know your actual birthday was last weekend, but you spent it at home so I didn't see you. So… Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Jack."

Jack set the box aside, turned and hugged Rob tightly. "Thank you, Robby. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

The boy hugged her back but gave her a puzzled look. "Cupcakes are one of the 'nicest things' ever?"

"It's not the cupcakes, it's the thought behind them," she told him with a shy grin and a shrug.

As she looked at Rob, his thoughtfulness hit her with an almost physical force. The memory of Riddick holding her on the shuttle charged into her mind unbidden, but then Riddick was never far from her mind. ("I dream of him. It's like he haunts me," she'd admitted to Imam as the family celebrated her birthday the previous weekend. The happiness of the evening had accentuated the void of his absence, and she had poignantly wished the big man could be there as well.) She forcefully pushed the thought of him away then deliberately changed the subject to something less emotionally charged. "Hey! You don't expect me to eat all these by myself do you?"

"Well, I kinda expected you'd share with me," Rob answered with a crooked grin.

"Hell, yes," Jack grabbed one of the small cakes and then shoved the box toward Rob. She sat down and leaned back in her chair. As she bit into the tiny pastry, an expression of sheer delight crossed her face- chocolate with raspberry jam filling. Raspberries were common on Galatea; however, they just didn't grow on Helion Prime, so they were a rare treat. Jack recalled telling Rob that they had been her favorite before she left her homeworld, but she had never expected him to go to such lengths for her. She relished the flavor chewing slowly as she stared at the cupcake in wonderment.

"Damn, girl, if I could only get you to look at _me_ like that," he said noting her spellbound expression. Jack just waggled her eyebrows as she finished the first cake and reached for a second-Robby was always making suggestive comments like that.

Jack had met Rob the day she started at HAFA; he had been her 'orientation guide': a somewhat dubious honor placed on the fifth form students for some reason known only to the administration of the school. Rob had become her closest friend at the school. He had introduced her to the twins as well as several other students who became friends.

He was fond of referring to their little group as the 'Odd Squad', because each of them had some element that distinguished them from the student body at large, most of whom were the children of relatively wealthy, high-ranking individuals from a variety of star systems. Rob himself was the youngest son of one of Helion Prime's senior council members. Jack had once teasingly asked Rob what qualified him to be a member of the Odd Squad when he was so normal. "I'm odd, because I'm normal, but I like you oddballs better than the norms. I guess you'd say, I'm odd cause I wanna be odd," he'd informed her.

In the time she had known him, Rob never seemed to lack for female companionship. He had dated girls his own age from several schools in addition to their own. From what Jack had seen, his tastes ran to curvy girly-girls with large breasts rather than skinny tomboys. As one of the latter, she had fallen into a comfortable 'buddy' relationship with him. He good-naturedly teased her and tossed the occasional off-handed comment her way but she knew he wasn't serious.

_Which is fine with me, I don't have time for any romantic shit,_ she thought with forced determination. _Even if his eyes do look like deep water on a summer day… Whoa! Where the hell did that come from? Can't go there, Jackie-girl, he's your best friend._

"You're a good cook," she told him after she finished the final cupcake. She licked delicately at a small smear of raspberry on the corner of her mouth.

His eyes fixed with rapt attention on the tiny pink tip of her tongue that flicked out to recover the stray bit of jam. "You're a good eater," he replied finally. His eyes locked to hers with an intensity that was far from brotherly.

"Rob?" she said after a moment, perplexed by the focus of his gaze. She felt a thrill tingle through her body, _He's not interested in _ME_ is he? Don't be silly, Jack!_

He looked away, blinked a couple of times and swallowed visibly. He then took a deep breath and exhaled before he turned back. He gave her a grin to defuse the tension and said nonchalantly, "Ya know, I'm gonna have to keep a closer eye on you in the cafeteria from now on. You do much eating like that and someone's gonna jump your bones."

Jack laughed and they both relaxed, but there was still an undercurrent of tension that hadn't been there before. Rob stretched in his chair, with his legs crossed at the ankles, feet propped on an empty desk.

As she finished her homework, he kept up a running banter with her that served to further diminish the remaining awkwardness between them. When she was finally satisfied with her solution, Jack sent the assignment to the instructor, and then packed her gear into a large shoulder bag. Before she could protest, he took the bag from her and swung it to his own shoulder.

"C'mon, I'll walk ya back to the dorm," he said and ambled toward the door to the lab.

Not for the first time, Jack was glad that she had talked Imam into letting her move into the dorm. HAFA was on the opposite side of New Mecca from Imam's house. Had she been living with him, she would have had a long, cross-town shuttle ride confronting her instead of a short, cross-campus walk. At first, she had felt a bit guilty about not staying with him, but Imam was so focused on his new family- especially little Ziza, who had joined them only ten months after the wedding- that Jack quickly decided it was probably best for all of them. Besides, the convenience meant that she could put in a lot more lab time, which meant she would be able to graduate sooner.

"By the way, Jack, where'd you learn that little move you used on me earlier?" Rob asked as they exited the building.

"I've been taking lessons," she said and glanced at him guiltily.

"What? When? In your sleep?" he asked. His voice held genuine shock. "You always seem to either be here studying or at home visiting your family."

"Hey, I spend time with you and the Squad, too," she shot back indignantly.

"Okay, or with me. So when do you have time for martial arts?"

"Um, you know those midweek dinners that Imam 'insisted' I come home for?"

"Yeah…" he agreed cautiously. "That's why you didn't join Jim's study group."

Jack made a face at the mention of Jim. He was Rob's age but was in Jack's form. He'd given her grief when she first started at HAFA and word got round that she was a former runaway. Ever chivalrous, Rob had almost gotten into a fight with him in defense of her 'honor'. His stance had definitely played a role in Rob quickly becoming her closest friend at the school. Of course, after Jack aced the first exam, Jim's mind had suddenly changed about her, and he had started pestering her to join his study group.

"No, I didn't join Jim's study group because he's a hypocritical ass. I made up the dinners so that no one else would invite me to join their group," she told him with another guilty look.

"Huh? Why?"

She spoke very quickly her words tumbling over one another as she tried to explain. "Like I said, I've really been taking these self-defense lessons… It's a new style called Danse de Guerre- Dance of War- that focuses on using explosive attacks for quick takedowns... I found out about it from the school bulletin board."

"Jack, slow down, you're gonna choke."

"Sorry, I lied," she apologized with sincere remorse.

"That's okay, Jack," he reassured her. He stopped and held her shoulders as he looked down at her. "But why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause I didn't tell Imam either," she admitted returning his gaze nervously and clasping her bottom lip in her teeth, nibbling gently.

"Why not?" he asked in a rather distant voice, as his eyes focused on her mouth again. She felt a thrill go through her at his intense regard. Jack saw his throat move as he swallowed then he forced his eyes back to meet hers. He cleared his throat, and in a more attentive voice, he repeated: "Why not?"

"He doesn't approve of violence. I didn't want him to give me any shit, but I had to…," she explained trailing off with a momentary haunted expression. Rob was the only person at the school that she had told about the crash that had brought her and Imam together, although she had left out certain rather large details, like one Richard B. Riddick. Knowing he would understand, she continued: "I needed to do something to make me feel more in control. To get rid of the fucking nightmares."

"I thought you already knew how to fight. That's what you said when I tried to step in with Jim. 'I can take care of myself just fine, Rob Harris,' you said," he grinned at her, raising his voice to a high-pitched falsetto as he imitated her.

"I don't sound like that," she defended. "But what I knew was all wild-kid fighting. Just stuff I'd picked up in the foster homes. Not a _real_ martial art. The Danse classes also focus on meditation and discipline in addition to the actual fighting stuff. That's what I needed to get rid of the dreams."

"I think maybe you just need someone to keep you safe at night," he said cryptically as he stared at her a moment longer. His thumb stroked along her collarbone through the thick weave of her sweater, causing gooseflesh to rise along her arms. Then he abruptly released her shoulders and began walking toward her dorm once more. Jack stood stunned by his final remark. He was several steps away before she finally gave herself a mental shake and hurried to catch up. The tension from earlier had returned in full force, and they walked the rest of the way in electric silence.

* * *

Jack was glad she didn't have to make small talk after the encounter. Her mind was spinning at the thought that Rob might think of her as more than just a 'kid-sister' buddy. His comment about keeping her safe, sent images of Rob interposed with Riddick swirling through her head, leaving her feeling confused and flustered. _What the hell! Riddick and Rob are nothing alike! _Jack thought fiercely, but she knew that wasn't exactly true. They both made her feel safe, if in different ways. And they both gave her a sense of a real connection to another individual in the universe. 

Jack couldn't say exactly why, given the short time she'd had with Riddick, but the man had touched her soul in a way that didn't fade over time. She suspected it had to do with the extreme nature of the circumstances under which they had met. After she had recovered from the pain of his leaving her-after she had accepted why he did it-he had become a source of inspiration for her. In light of the fact that he was a convicted killer, she knew that most people would question her sanity if they knew how she felt. Nevertheless, Jack always thought of Riddick when things were difficult. When she needed extra resolve to push through she would concentrate on Riddick-visualizing his face and sardonic grin. He was no "knight in shining-armor" ,or rather "shining-eyes", but his ability to persevere in the face of overwhelming odds gave her strength when she needed it.

She now realized that in many ways, Rob filled a similar place in her heart. When gloominess tried to overwhelm her, she would call Rob's face to mind and it made her feel lighter and happier. Any time something amused her, she wondered what Robby would think of it. Frequently, she would eagerly share it with him the next time she saw him so that they could laugh together. Where Riddick was her strength, Rob was her sense of humor.

_And Imam's my fucking conscience. What kind of schizo-freak am I?_ she thought with amusement bubbling up inside of her. She glanced at Rob walking beside her and smiled inwardly. _Guess I probably shouldn't share this particular little joke with him, though. At least not yet._

They reached the entry to her dorm, and Rob turned to face her. Apparently, her smile hadn't been as inward as she had thought, because he cocked his head to the side and asked, "What are you grinning at like that?"

Jack's smile broadened as she looked up at him and she answered honestly, "You, I think."

"Oh really?" he queried as a slow smile stretched at the corners of his mouth and he stepped close to her. He brushed his fingertips along the side of her face then rested his hand on the curve of her neck, brushing his thumb gently back and forth along her jaw line.

"You know, Jack, I never… uh, that is… I, um…" he stammered, at a loss for words. Jack couldn't recall seeing him quite that flustered before. She rested her palm against his chest, and she could feel the quickened pace of his heart.

"Oh, fuck it," he muttered finally. He bent and pressed his lips firmly against hers as he pulled her into his arms. In that moment, Jack felt a sweet, peaceful feeling sweep through her; contentment, that's what it was. She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back enthusiastically.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the hiccup on the upload for Chapter 7. I don't know what happened, but several of the paragraphs got kinda scrambled (HUGE Thanks to Whitelite for catching it for me!). If anyone spots something similar, please let me know and I can re-upload the problem chapter. And as always if you have comments on grammar, plot, characterization, anything... I'd love to hear them! 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

After what seemed a long time, Jack and Rob broke off their kiss. He had an enormous grin plastered across his face, and Jack knew from the slight ache in her cheeks that her smile must be just as broad. He rested his forehead against hers and kept his arms around her waist.

"Wow," Jack said breathlessly. "Where did that come from?"

He chuckled and then hugged her tightly: "I've wanted to do that since the day I met you."

"You're kidding! Why'd you wait so long?"

"Damn, Jack, don't you know how intimidating you are? When Jim came onto you, you were positively brutal. I was afraid you wouldn't be interested and I figured it'd be better to just keep it to myself than to risk rejection like that. And, as cliché as it sounds, I really didn't want to hurt our friendship."

"Okay, once again, Jim is an ass and a hypocrite," Jack clarified. "I was brutal with him because he fucking deserved it. He seemed to think he could trash me at will, but that I'd just fall all over him when he snapped his fingers. Not gonna happen!

"Rob, you're not Jim. You're nothing like Jim. None of my responses to Jim would ever apply to you. Got it?"

He grinned, hugged her again, and then agreed, "Aye, Captain."

"And as far as our friendship goes, it's forever. Wherever we go from here, that ain't gonna change. I won't let it," she asserted vehemently. Then, Jack snuggled against him and hugged him back, still heady with the thought that he cared for her as more than a buddy. Slowly, one other thing he had said penetrated her consciousness. She pushed away from him with a small frown and asked, "Am I really that intimidating?"

Rob burst out laughing. "Yes, but it's part of your charm."

"What about me is intimidating?" she queried in confusion.

"Well, you're smart, sweet, sexy, beautiful, you've had an extremely interesting life… Do I need to continue?"

"No, I'm not fishing for compliments. I'm just… well, I had no idea you felt this way. You're very good at hiding it," she told him.

"Jack, I've flirted with you since we first met. Hadn't you noticed?"

"Robby, you flirt with lots of girls. I always figured that was just you being you. You're charming, you know. Besides, why should you be interested in romance with a skinny, street-punk runaway like me?"

"Back to the whole smart, sweet, interesting… You really didn't know? Hell, I'm not the only one who thinks this. I could name a dozen guys who think you're hot stuff," he confided. "But I'm not gonna. Now that I've got ya, I wanna keep you to myself. Don't wanna give you too many alternatives."

Jack blushed and looked at her feet in momentary consternation. She, then, raised her eyes back to his which were twinkling like a pair of sapphires. _God, he has pretty eyes,_ she thought. Aloud, she said, "You're just fucking with me."

He shook his head at her statement, and then bent and pressed his lips to hers again. She closed her eyes as she met his kiss, marveling in the feel of his mouth on hers. His tongue teased along her bottom lip and she instinctively opened her mouth to him. Shyly at first, then more aggressively, she ran her tongue inside his mouth, matching him in the kiss. He tasted like raspberries from the cupcakes they had shared earlier. Jack knew that from that point forward, she would always associate that flavor with him.

When their lips finally separated, he pulled her close and nuzzled against her ear. Rob, one of those rare young men who actually needed a razor, hadn't shaved recently, and his cheek rasped against hers sending thrills of unaccustomed sensation through her. His voice dropped below its normal register as he purred, "Not fucking with you Jack. You're _my_ girl, and I don't plan to share."

As Jack cuddled against him again, the thought occurred to her that she had wanted him to do this for quite some time. She just hadn't let herself acknowledge it because she had thought he wouldn't-no, couldn't-return the sentiment. _Why does this shit always sneak up on me?_ she wondered. She reveled in the warmth of his embrace… Involuntarily, Jack yawned widely.

"Bored already?" Rob teased with a wry grin.

Jack snickered and then displayed her chrono to him. "Not at all, but it is almost 0100. I'll happily stand right here until I collapse with exhaustion, but then, _you're_ gonna have to figure out how to haul my ass to my room."

"Maybe I'd just haul your ass to _my_ room… But I guess we'll never know," he said, suggestively waggling his eyebrows. "What classes do you have tomorrow?"

"Only a couple. Systems and Advanced Nav in the morning, then my flight lab right after lunch. I should be done by 1400. Why? You wanna find out if you can haul my ass to my room?"

"Cause, I'm claiming you after that," he laughed and tweaked her nose with his finger.

"Not that I'm complaining, but for what?"

"I know you, Jack," he informed her. "If I don't claim you now, I'll have to go hunt you down in some library or lab just like I did tonight. I just wanna spend some time with you; maybe we can go see a vid or something. I'll meet you here at 1500 sharp."

"That would be great," she said then pulled him into a final lingering kiss. Jack broke away from him and darted up the steps to her dorm. The exterior door whooshed open and she started to step through but turned back to smile broadly at him. "Tomorrow."

"Absolutely," he agreed returning her grin.

Then Jack moved through the doors. She floated in a warm glow to the lift, up to her floor and then down the hall. Dreamily, she pressed her palm to the lock and opened the door. She knew that she was grinning like a maniac, but she didn't care. She couldn't recall having ever felt quite this giddy.

As the door opened, her roommate, Val (whose real name was Tressa Svensen), roused from her bunk and looked at Jack. Val was another member of the 'Odd Squad' and had known Rob even longer than Jack. Rob, who was something of a history buff, had christened her 'the Valkyrie' after the mythological warrior women from old Earth history. The nickname had stuck and everyone called her 'Val' instead of by her given name.

"Evening, Val," Jack said, beaming at the girl who was blinking at the light from the hall.

Val glanced at the readout on the clock by her bed and answered, " _Morning_ , Jack. Let me guess, he _FINALLY_ made a move."

Jack stared at her friend in shock. "You knew?"

"Good Lord, Jack, _everyone_ knew. He's been mooning about you for months. And you've been just as bad. If one of you hadn't done something soon, I was gonna kick you both in the ass and lock you in a room together until you figured it out!" Val grumbled.

"I can't believe you never said anything to me."

"Uh-uh… Where romance between my two best friends is concerned, I don't get involved," Val stated vehemently as she flopped over to get the light out of her eyes. "Now go to bed, it's late."

Jack stepped the rest of the way through the door and it slid shut behind her. She quietly changed into her normal sleeping attire (an oversized T-shirt). She was climbing into bed when Val flopped back over.

"So, was it awesome?" she asked and even in the dark room Jack could see the pale flash of her teeth as she grinned.

"Yeah," Jack said returning her grin. "It was perfect."

* * *

The next afternoon, Jack stood amidst a tangle of clothing, which she had discarded on the floor. She had finished her lab early, and then rushed back to the dorm to change before meeting Rob. Ten-year-old Lisa and Lara, along with Val, had joined her as she got ready, ostensibly to offer advice but in Val's case, mostly to make snarky comments. 

"I can't wear _ANY_ of this," she complained as she turned to the other three occupants of the room. "Why did I force Imam to buy me these clothes? What was I thinking?"

Val, who had curled into a large armchair on her side of their room, laughed heartily at her consternation. From their perch on Jack's bunk, the twins looked at one another in confusion, and then looked back to where Jack had now discarded another pair of unacceptable cargo pants.

"We don't understand…" Lisa began.

"Aren't you just…" Lara continued.

"Going to the vids with Rob?" Lisa finished.

"It's different this time. I wanna look _nice_ , not like I normally do," Jack attempted to explain.

"But you said… That he said… That you were sexy," the twins asked as the actual speaker ping-ponged back and forth. The way they spoke disconcerted many people, but Jack was used to their unique method of communication. "Doesn't that mean… That he likes the way… You normally dress?"

"I guess," Jack agreed. "But I want to look _special_ for him. Like the other girls he dates."

The twins looked at each other again for a long moment and then shrugged in concert. They turned back to Jack and chorused, "Why?"

Jack turned to Val: "You explain it to them!"

"You want me to explain romance… to a pair of ten-year-olds," Val said, snorting with amusement. "Have you lost your fucking mind? Besides, I agree with them. If Rob wanted another girl, he could have her. He wants YOU."

"But all the other girls were… feminine!" she stated, waving her hands in agitation.

"Let me tell you something, Jack. I know that in a lot of ways you're closer to Rob than I am, but I've known him for a long time. I've figured out things about him that he probably doesn't even realize himself. The reason he dated those girly-girls is that he doesn't take them seriously. With them, he's just having fun. That's also, why he never went out with any of them more than twice; he didn't want to get involved. It's different with you. He actually cares about you and he likes you just the way you are."

"You really think so?" Jack asked uncertainly.

Val stretched languidly and then stood. She towered over Jack. At 1.9 meters, she was taller than most men. She was from a heavy world and her family had genetic modifications to adapt them to the high gravity. She was solidly built with heavy bone structure and well defined muscles, but was still quite feminine. Jack had always thought she was truly striking and particularly envied her honey blond hair and graceful elegance.

"I know so, Jack," she bent down and hugged Jack fondly. She then turned to Jack's closet and began riffling through the clothes. Eventually, she selected a pale blue T-shirt with a v-neck that Jack had shoved to the back. "Wear this."

"But it's too small," Jack informed her.

"I know," Val said with a conspiratorial grin. She then matched the top to a pair of black jeans that were also at the back because they didn't have enough pockets to suit Jack. "And these."

Jack held the clothing against her front and then surveyed herself in the mirror. She quirked an eyebrow skeptically at her companions: "Ya think?"

"Definitely," Val assured her as the twins nodded their approval in concert. "Now, hurry or you'll be late, it's already 1445."

Jack dressed quickly then ran a brush through her shoulder-length hair. She looked at her reflection. The T-shirt was snug and hugged her form with the v-neck accenting her cleavage. The lack of bulky pockets also made the pants more form fitting than her usual attire. Val had chosen well. While she definitely didn't look like some of the china-doll girls that Rob had dated before, she was most assuredly feminine. She grinned broadly at Val's reflection; the girl was giving her a thumbs-up from behind her.

The twins bounced in delight on the bed then scampered over and hugged her: "You look beautiful."

Jack opened the door then took a deep breath, "Well, here I go."

* * *

Rob paced back and forth in the lobby to Jack's dorm. He checked his wrist frequently and then compared the time he found there to the time displayed on the wall clock. Both agreed that the time as 1445. _Not quite 1500. Okay, Harris, just chill. Jack wouldn't stand you up. She isn't that kind of girl,_ he reassured himself. Then he returned to pacing. 

He'd been honest the night before when he confided that he'd been attracted to her from the start; however, he'd stopped short of admitting that he'd actually _paid_ Derek Hatazawa to trade plebes with him so he could be her orientation guide. Rob's original charge had been a skinny, pimply-faced, fifteen-year-old boy by the name of Raoul. Derek had charged Rob 100 UD for the privilege of escorting Jack; he considered it money well spent.

He had wanted to ask her out then, but he had chickened out. Instead, he had teased her and introduced her to his circle of friends, figuring that if he kept her close, he would eventually get his nerve back. The plan had backfired. Once he got to know her, he found that he valued her friendship so much that he was afraid of what would happen if he pressed his luck and she wasn't interested.

He had tried to convince himself that it was for the best; having Jack as a friend was enough. To help persuade himself, he had started dating a series of girls who were nothing like the elusive Jack. It hadn't worked; he found himself constantly comparing the other girls to Jack and finding them wanting. Finally, he couldn't take it any longer and decided he had to say something to her. That was when he had hatched the whole cupcake idea. He had still chickened out and had almost let the opportunity slip by. But the way she had looked at him and the way the light had caught her hair and turned her eyes into luminous green pools had caused something to snap and he had gone for it.

Unfortunately, that was last night. Now, in the clear light of afternoon, he was fretting that he had ruined the best friendship he had. That she had changed her mind after she left him and that now she would start avoiding him.

He checked his watch again 1458. His pacing was drawing irritated looks from the residence assistant on duty at the desk. Suddenly, he heard a soft ding as the lift doors opened and spied her inside. Rob met her as she exited and immediately swept her into an enveloping hug, which she returned avidly. "Thought maybe you'd changed your mind," he whispered.

"Not a chance," she reassured him. Then he felt a thrill of exultation as her lips brushed his cheek. He quickly twisted his head and kissed her on the mouth, deliberately ignoring the outburst it drew from the RA.

When he released her, he looked at her with open admiration. Jack always looked good in his opinion, but the plunging neckline of her current attire was enough to make his throat dry. "Wow, that's a really great top, Jack. I don't think I've seen them…er, it before," he stammered, mentally kicking himself for his slip.

She grinned at him. "You really like it? Val picked it out."

She smoothed her hands over her stomach and he had to swallow several times before he replied: "Remind me to thank Val."

He took her hand and led her toward the door. They walked down the steps and headed across the campus in companionable silence. After they had walked a ways, he asked, "So what would you like to do? You wanna see a vid then have some dinner or what?"

"You're gonna think it's fucking silly and I don't know why I'm saying this, but… Well, I wanna have a picnic," Jack said and grinned shyly at him. He laughed in delight at how great her suggestion was. Misinterpreting his laughter, she continued, "See, I told you it was stupid."

He shook his head vehemently. "It's about the least stupid idea I've heard in a while. WAY less stupid than going to a vid. With a picnic, we can actually talk. With my idea, we'd just have to sit there in a dim room and try to pay attention to a holo-chamber."

"You mean you like the idea?" she asked incredulously.

"Yup," he agreed. "Come on; let's see if we can sweet-talk the cafeteria manager into some food. Then we just need to scare up a blanket and we're set."

"You're on!" she agreed enthusiastically.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

Toombs took a tight rein on his anger, accepted the data that the robed figures provided about the contract and then left the building as quickly as possible. He hated being backed into a corner and he was afraid of what he might do if he did not conclude the business quickly.

The flight back to the Undertaker occurred in complete silence. Toombs had gone to the meeting for the money, and come out of it with an unwelcome contract along with a threat against his ship. _Bastards! They knew exactly which buttons to push,_ he fumed.

Upon reaching the ship, he parked the shuttle and then left without a backward glance. He needed to hit something and he wasn't sure he trusted himself around Kyra and Mare until he had worked out that anger. As he stormed away, he heard Kyra mutter something to Mare, and then the younger woman followed him.

"Toombs…" she called after him after he had gone a few paces without slowing.

"Not now, Kyra," he said curtly. Without slowing, he continued his progress to the gym attached to his quarters. Once there, he stripped off his shirt and shoes and began working over a hapless punching bag with a vengeance, using only his bare knuckles. In his mind, he visualized it wearing a long dark robe and speaking in a melodious voice. Kyra had followed him, but he ignored her in his need to work through the frustration of being forced into a job he didn't want.

For a long time, he pounded and kicked the bag, oblivious to everything else. Eventually, he ran out of energy and anger. He was left with only a vague feeling of helplessness. He sank to his knees beside the bag, head down, breathing heavily. He heard Kyra move from where she had perched on a weight machine and approach him cautiously. Apparently, she had waited throughout his session with the bag; he hadn't expected her to do so, but he found that he was exceedingly pleased that she had.

"Toombs?" she said softly as though testing to see if he was back to himself.

He raised his eyes to her face and the concern that he read there moved him. He offered her a weak grin and said, "Hey, baby. You know, you didn't have to stick around through all that."

"I wanted to," she assured him with a crooked grin. She then closed the remaining distance between them until she stood directly in front of him. She reached out and ran her fingers across his forehead; her touch was soft, soothing. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, burrowing his face into her midsection and inhaling her scent. She threaded her fingers into his hair and gently massaged his scalp. Her mere presence was surprisingly comforting and he held her for a long time just enjoying the sensation.

"You're a pretty damned amazing woman, d'ya know that?" he said at last with a chuckle.

"Of course," Kyra answered with a laugh. "I'd have to be to put up with you."

"Put up with me, huh?" he asked as he felt some of his normal humor returning. He looked up at her with an evil grin; then before she could react, he swept her up in his arms eliciting a shriek of surprise from Kyra. He carried her toward the door that connected the gym with his sleeping quarters and growled, "Get the door."

Kyra wiggled delightfully in his grasp and stretched to reach the lock panel for the door. As she extended her arm, she exposed a large expanse of her chest. He ducked his head and traced a path, running his tongue from the cleft between her breasts to the hollow at the base of her throat. Kyra finally hit the switch and the door swished silently open revealing the sleeping chamber beyond complete with a large bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck with what sounded like a purr and pulled his face to hers. They kissed deeply as he walked toward the bed with her.

He tossed her lightly down and then stretched along side her allowing his hands to rove over her body. "Gonna teach you about puttin' up with me, you impertinent female."

* * *

Kyra woke several hours later. Toombs was still sleeping, and she didn't want to wake him. However, nature's demands forced her to untangle their limbs for a trip to his bathroom. 

When she returned, Toombs had his hands pillowed behind his head. She paused in the doorway, admiring the picture he made. She saw his gaze rove along her body as he, too, blatantly admired her naked form. "Hey, hot stuff. Wanna put up with me again?" he said with a smirk.

"Jesus, Toombs! Don't you ever think of anything else?"

"No, not really. At least, not when I have a naked woman handy."

Kyra shook her head and flopped on his bed. "Just this once, try to focus on something else. I wanna talk to you."

"Talk, talk, talk…" he grumbled. "Oh, alright."

She looked at him seriously. "Toombs, I wanted to ask you about today. What do you plan to do about the job?"

"Do the fucking job," he answered without hesitation.

Kyra was a bit taken aback: "But that kid. She didn't do anything to anyone."

"That don't enter into it," he said with a frown. "Merc's creed, culpable responsibility. The person laid out the contract is responsible for whether or not the target is actively wanted for an investigation. Damn, Kyra, you know this shit. Why you even bringing it up?"

She could tell her line of conversation was irritating him, but she couldn't let it drop: "But, we can't just—"

"Look, Kyra, we have a contract, we fulfill it. We're mercs; it's what we do. The law's pretty fucking clear on that point. You don't have the stomach for it; maybe you're in the wrong line of work," Toombs said harshly. "And regardless of anything else we do with one another, you're my fucking Security Chief. I need you with me 100 percent on this thing. You start going all squeamish on me, I'm gonna start wondering if I made a bad choice for the job."

His words hit her like a slap to the face. Her eyes widened and she felt anger rising inside her. "You bastard," she hissed as she rolled off the bed and began pulling her clothing back on. Her shirt had somehow gotten lost earlier when he'd removed it, so she grabbed one of his, which he had discarded over the back of a convenient chair.

"Kyra, it ain't personal," he growled as she dressed. "You don't have to go getting all pissed off about this."

"Fuck you," she snapped and then pressed her palm to the lock and stormed out of the room. She stomped along the corridor not really going anywhere in particular, just needing to put some space between her and Toombs. She rounded a corner and spotted two hapless mercs who were yelling at one another.

She barreled down on them just as one decided to escalate the issue by taking a swing. As she reached the pair, she pivoted and kicked sideways with her left leg catching merc one in the chest knocking him onto his ass several feet away. She lowered her leg, shifted her weight forward and then snap kicked the second guy in the head, dropping him as well. Both stared up at her in shock, but were smart enough to stay down.

"There's no fighting on this goddamn ship, understand me?" she roared. Both men nodded with similar expressions of fear in the face of her fury. "Get the fuck out of my sight, and I don't want to see either of you again, or I'll personally break both of you!"

Without waiting for them to respond, she stormed past. Both men shrank away from her as she moved by them in the narrow corridor. She glanced back at the pair who began scrambling in the opposite direction. Then she turned around and almost ran headlong into Mare.

The woman wore a bemused expression as she looked down the hallway at the fleeing mercs. She then turned her attention back to Kyra and quirked an eyebrow. Kyra was quite familiar with that expression.

"Not now, Mare," she said with a curt shake of her head. Mare shrugged and stepped to the side and then gestured with a flourish for Kyra to continue on her path. Kyra gave her a tight smile and a nod of thanks for not pushing the issue and then continued down the hallway.

She went to one of her favorite spots on the ship, a long view port that looked into the depths of space—although currently it provided a breathtaking view of Aquila Three spinning slowly beneath them. She paced back and forth along its length for some time seething over her argument with Toombs. _How dare that motherfucker question my abilities as a merc! Ask a simple question and he threatens my job! The unbelievable bastard!_

Eventually, she forced her self to stop pacing. She took a deep breath to steady herself and began to step through a slow meditative form, trying to recenter her emotions and work through the hurt and anger he'd called up inside of her. When she finally felt more at ease, she curled down into a lotus position and stared at the beautiful vista before her. She fought to understand why his words had touched such a nerve in her, and why his opinion seemed to matter so much to her.

* * *

"Fuck!" Toombs yelled as the door closed behind her. He rolled out of bed and quickly began searching for his own discarded clothing, intent on following. When he was dressed, he charged after her, guessing at which direction she had taken from his cabin. 

In his rush, he almost knocked down a pair of crew who were hurrying in the opposite direction. "Get out of my way, you fucks," he snarled as he roughly shoved them to the side and then rushed past. In his rush, he completely missed the twin expressions of terror on their faces as they cowered from him.

He charged around a corner and spotted Mare who was walking toward him: "You seen Kyra?"

"You fucked it up, didn't you, Gabe?" she asked without preamble, effectively answering his question.

Toombs growled in frustration then bit out, "I don't need your analysis, just answer the fucking question."

"She went that way," Mare said, pointing down the corridor. Without another word, he moved past and stalked down the hallway. She called after him, "She's pretty pissed. You better watch yourself. You should have seen what she did to a couple of crewies who got in her way."

He waved a hand in thanks but didn't turn back. He had a good idea now of where Kyra had gone. When he arrived at the gallery, Kyra was moving gracefully through a tai chi form. He stopped and silently watched her, marveling at the catlike beauty of the woman in motion.

As he watched, she finished the last careful movement and then folded herself to the floor. He waited for a while to see if she would turn and notice him; however, she seemed to be deep in her own thoughts and showed no inclination to acknowledge him. Deciding to take the initiative, he walked cautiously toward her, not wanting to startle her into combat mode. He knew the moment she heard him because her back suddenly tensed, but she didn't turn around or speak.

"Kyra?" he said tentatively. She still didn't speak. He knelt behind her and lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. She didn't lean into him as she normally would've, but she didn't pull away either. "Baby, I'm sorry for how that went down. Your question surprised me and I didn't handle it well. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She didn't speak, but he felt some of the tension flow out of her shoulders. "Listen, I want you to know, I'm not apologizing for what I said. It needed sayin'. But I was out of line in how I said it. This contract's got me on edge too. I don't like it any more than you do, but a job's a job and we do the damn job. There ain't no reason it has to come between us like this unless you let it."

She finally relaxed back against him with a deep sigh and then said, "Toombs, you're an asshole."

He grinned, wrapped an arm around her, crossing her collarbone, and pulled her firmly against him. "Fuck, Kyra, you knew that the first time you met me. And here ya are saying it like it's some kind of net bulletin."

"No, it's no bulletin. I just occasionally have to remind myself of the fact," she agreed and he felt her run her hands across his arm and then she wrapped her arms over his returning his hug.

"So are we good?" he asked hopefully. She sighed and nodded then snuggled her head against his arm.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go clean up and then grab some grub. I dunno 'bout you, but I'm pretty damned hungry after all that."

* * *

Three days later, they broke orbit and laid in a course for the Helion system. The trip took several weeks, during which Toombs took his time selecting a team of mercs for the job. In light of their argument, he considered leaving Kyra out of the operation even though she was one of the best in his organization. She changed his mind by confronting him directly. 

"Put me on the team, Toombs," Kyra said without preamble as she walked into his office.

"Ya sure?" he asked as he leaned back and regarded her with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah. You were right about what you said. I've been in this business my whole life and I know how it works. I don't know why I went all squeamish on you," she informed him.

"Okay, you're in. And I'm glad, baby. This is a pretty delicate situation and I need someone I can trust," he said with a grin.

"So who else you taking?"

"Thought I might go with Jones and Sanchez. Don't know either of them that well, but they both have good records, so…" he said indicating a data reader on his desk. "What do ya think?"

Kyra moved around and perched on the edge of his desk. Toombs waited expectantly as Kyra picked up the reader and perused the information on the two mercs. He knew well what the files said. They had both joined the crew about three months earlier when Toombs did a turnover of a large portion of the mercs who had worked for Chillingsworth. At that time, he'd off loaded about 90 percent of the old crew, a total of 125 mercs and brought in about 30 new people. Dropping the crew contingent had been one of Jericho's suggestions to decrease their ongoing, operating expenses and Toombs had embraced the idea whole-heartedly.

She finally looked up from the reader and gave him a non-committal shrug. He chuckled and asked, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I want your real opinion."

"They'll do. I'm not crazy about Jones as a human being—he's an unrepentant slob and he generally smells—but he is good at his job. And Sanchez seems like a good man even if he is a little young and high-strung."

Her analysis amused Toombs. He knew that the 'young' Sanchez was in fact three years older than Kyra herself. "Good, then I guess we have our team. We should hit the Helion system in another week. We'll break off in the Purgatory and head to H-Prime. We're supposed to drop the target on H-5, so Mare'll take the ship there and wait for us. Hell, if all goes well, I'll get to go thank Riddick for stealing my damn shuttle by the end of this month."

Kyra laughed at that: "God, Toombs. Obsessive, much? Have you considered seeing a counselor about your Riddick fixation?"

"It ain't obsession… I just don't want folks thinkin' they can get away with that kinda shit around old Toombs," he explained with a rakish grin.

"I dunno, Toombs. It still seems kinda obsessive to me…"

"Kyra, don't make me have to spank you."

She lowered her eyelids and stared at him from between her eyelashes, with a pout that made his groin tighten, and then she purred, "Promises, promises."

With a growl, he pulled her roughly onto his lap and fulfilled his promise while she wiggled delightfully.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's reading. I just wanted to let everyone know that my introduction of the Jack/OMC pairing DOES NOT mean that Jack won't get together with Riddick in the end. 

Also, I had to edit this chapter from it's original version in order to comply with the ratings restrictions of this web site. I think it reads pretty well in it's edited for, but I'd love to hear how you feel about it. Please let me know if anything seems too choppy or abrupt, and I'll see if I can smooth the edges.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven **

After they finally acknowledged that there was more to their relationship than friendship, Jack and Rob became virtually inseparable. Three weeks after what Jack thought of as the 'Cupcake Event', she tested into the Fifth Form. Rob met her at the testing center as she bounced out with the news. Her shoulder bag flapped heavily against her hip as she took the stairs two at a time and then threw herself into his arms with a delighted squeal. "I did it!"

"Was there any doubt?" he asked as he lifted her and spun her around in a full circle. Then he kissed her and set her back on her feet. "Come on, let's go back to the dorm and drop your bag. Then I'm taking you out for a celebration."

"Hell yeah!"

They hurried back to the dorm and she quickly changed clothes. She was a bit disappointed that she didn't run into Val or the twins to give them the good news, but she didn't let that dim her mood a bit. She ran a brush through her shoulder length hair, tossed it into a quick French braid and then rushed back down to the lobby where Rob was waiting.

"So where are we going?" she asked as she exited the lift and took his hand.

"You'll find out…"he said mysteriously and led her across campus. She buzzed with curiosity but resisted the temptation to pester him into telling her where he was taking her. The surprise would be better anyway.

They left the campus and walked a couple of blocks to a small restaurant tucked into a row of quaint little shops. Jack looked at him quizzically but he just grinned and led her through the doorway. As she stepped through the portal, she was greeted by a wave of sound as the entire room shouted, "Surprise!"

All her friends from school as well as Imam, Lajjun and Ziza filled the tiny restaurant. Jack turned to Rob in wonderment. "Did you plan all this?"

"Yup," he said with a satisfied grin.

"You must have spent days pulling this together. This is wonderful; you even got my family to come. Why would you go to all this trouble? What if I'd fucked up on the test and hadn't passed?"

He hugged her tightly. "I knew you'd pass; that was a given," he informed her. "And as for the 'trouble' well, it really wasn't any. I made a few calls and rounded up some kids… no big deal. But even if it had been, you're worth any amount of trouble, Jack. This is a special occasion, I wanted _everyone_ who's special to you to be here to celebrate with you and that includes your family."

Jack felt a distinct twinge of regret at his words; there was one person she cared about who wasn't present. Imam was standing near enough to their conversation, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he drew her into a warm hug. Then she was swept up in the storm of well-wishers. Jack was overwhelmed by how very many people were there. She pushed her longing for Riddick out of her mind and spent the next couple of hours eating, chatting and just enjoying the celebration.

Later, as the party began winding down, Imam drew her to a small, secluded couch and gave her a warm hug. "I am so very proud of you, my child. Do you know that?"

"Of course, Imam, you tell me all the time," she said, returning his embrace and then sitting with him on the small sofa. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't make me feel good to hear it again."

"Do you know, that I believe _he_ would be very proud of you as well?" he'd continued. Jack stiffened at that.

"He cared for you a great deal, you know," Imam reassured her. "I believe he would be pleased at the life you are making for yourself. This is what he wanted for you: a normal, happy life. That is why he cannot be here."

"I just miss him, Imam," she told him. "I know that's odd. I mean… I only knew him for, what, a week or two? But I sometimes I really miss him. I just wish he could be here. I wish he could meet Rob and have cake and watery punch and I could thank him for everything. I'm silly, huh?"

"Not at all," Imam said, smiling gently as he patted her hand.

She sat for a moment and then continued in a quiet voice: "And I worry about him. A lot. I especially think of him, when I have so many people around who care about me. Who does Riddick have to take care of him? I know he thought he didn't need anyone, but that doesn't mean he's right. I wish there were some way to know that he's okay."

"Jack, you are truly a treasure, and I am certain that Mr. Riddick would tell you as much if he were here. Since he is not, I will simply have to say it a second time. You are a _treasure_ and I am so honored to have had you be a part of my life these past two years."

Imam's words brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away as Rob walked up. He squatted beside her and looked at her with genuine concern. "Are you all right?"

With her right hand, she clasped the hand Rob rested on her knee and then she took Imam's hand in her left. She squeezed both and then looked from Imam's weathered features to Rob's gently smiling face. Finally, she looked down at the hands she held clasped in her lap. In her minds eye, she imagined Riddick as she'd last seen him, kneeling beside Robby with his large hand atop hers. In her heart, she included him when she finally said, "I don't know what I did to deserve such wonderful people in my life, but I want you to know, I really am thankful. More than you can ever know."

Rob leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and whispered: "See, that's why I go to the trouble."

* * *

Toombs guided the Purgatory to a landing on the outskirts of New Mecca. Kyra sat in the copilot's seat beside him. Sanchez and Jones had strapped in behind them. After Toombs shut the ship down, they grabbed their gear and exited the shuttle, pausing so that Toombs could lock it down. 

When the ship was secure, they boarded a shuttle, which took them closer to the district where the kid was in school. Toombs had selected lodgings that were close enough to the campus to allow them to monitor the girl's activities, but far enough away and in a gritty enough part of town, that their appearance didn't raise any eyebrows.

They spent the better part of two weeks observing the girl to identify the ideal time to grab her. Toombs had hoped that they would be able to do the job more quickly, but he preferred taking the extra time to do things right to the alternative of botching the job.

Unfortunately, the girl spent most of her time on campus. Nevertheless, Toombs's diligence eventually paid off and they discovered that she made a trip off campus every Wednesday evening. The trip took her to a small out of the way storefront, which led past any number of dark alleys where they could make the grab.

* * *

"You really wanna come to my class with me?" Jack asked Rob as she picked up her bag with her equipment. She wasn't sure how she felt about him watching her work out, but the pitiful expression he gave her tipped the scale. "Okay, but don't blame me if you're fucking bored." 

"Jack, I'll get to see you kicking ass, how in hell could that be boring?" he asked incredulously.

"It's not quite as exciting as you might think. A lot of the class is just spent on technique and repetition. We only actually spar for about 30 minutes out of the two hours," she informed him as they walked across campus.

"Well, maybe I'll join the class," he returned. It was her turn to look incredulous, prompting him to assert, "Hey, I can kick butt with the best of them."

"I'm sure you could, but you never really showed any indication before that you have any desire to. Rob, are you really interested in learning a martial art? Or, is this about something else?" she asked and stopped walking to look squarely at him. After her surprise party, she had finally confided in him about _all_ her experiences on the planet and with the mercs, including Riddick.

The party had really brought home to her how much she cared for Rob and she'd decided that she had to trust him with the complete story. While he'd known select bits before, she realized that her revelation had come as a shock to him. Since that night, he'd been extra attentive and protective of her. She was convinced that his newly awakened interest in martial arts had to be related.

"I've always wanted to learn to be a badass," he replied with an innocent look. She gave him her best skeptical look and waited. Finally, he frowned and admitted, "I thought you liked the deadly beefcake type. You certainly seem to be taken with this Riddick character. You get all dreamy when you talk about him."

"Rob, I'm not going to fuck around with you on this one. Riddick saved my life several times. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here at all. I connected with him and I love him so fucking much it hurts sometimes," she said. He started to interrupt her, but she stopped him. "Let me finish. He's like an older brother. One who joined the military or something. He can't be around but he's still a major part of my life… of who I am. But that doesn't change what I feel for you. You aren't Riddick, but I don't want you to be. I love you for you."

When she finished speaking, his face broke into a broad smile, lighting up his features. "You love me?" he asked as though amazed. "Actual, 'LOVE' kind of love? Not 'he's my friend and I wanna sooth his neurotic self-consciousness' love, but the real thing?"

"Yeah," she said giggling. She hadn't planned to state her feelings so boldly and she felt a bit nervous about what sort of reaction he'd have to her proclamation.

"Good, cause I really am a lover not a fighter," he informed her. "That's why I'm so good at this."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Jack was warming to the activity, when she remembered the time. She, reluctantly, pulled away from him and said, "My class. I'm gonna be late."

"No you won't, we'll run!" he told her as he grabbed her hand and they took off. They dashed across campus, then down several narrow streets until they arrived at the small dojo. Both were out of breath and they drew an amused look from the instructor as they dashed in.

* * *

Toombs placed his people strategically: Jones at the end of the block, Kyra across the street and himself at the other end of the street. Sanchez would actually make the grab. Toombs stationed him in an alley about midway down. Once he had the girl, the rest of them would close so that they could easily carry her back to the ship. 

He led them to an alley that opened onto the street where the operation would go down. Before they moved into position, he gave them final commands: "All right, I want a clean op. This is a LIVE capture, so no shooting. Sanchez, you've got the juice right?"

"Check, boss," he said and pulled something from his jacket pocket. The small, dark-skinned man displayed a cylinder with a button on one end and an opening on the other. He spun it around in his palm and then returned it to his pocket with a flourish. He gave them a broad grin.

"And you know how to use it?" Kyra prompted, drawing a glare. Toombs raised his eyebrows and waited for the man to answer.

"Fuck, course I know how to use it!" Sanchez snapped irritably, his grin replaced by an angry frown. "Open end goes against her skin and then I push the button to inject the drug. It ain't fucking quantum mechanics."

Toombs nodded curtly. "All right, soon as you have her, dope her and we'll move in to help you. Everybody, set your headsets to channel 178 and move out. The sooner we get this done, the better."

Jones and Sanchez immediately slipped down the street and into hiding. He pressed a hurried kiss to Kyra's cheek. "Watch Sanchez, would ya?" he cautioned her.

"Already planned to," she agreed. "He seems off tonight. Jittery. Probably just nerves, but no sense taking chances."

"That's my girl," Toombs said as he swatted her behind. "Best get into position. If she keeps her schedule, she should be along in about 45 minutes."

The woman slipped into the darkness like a ghost. Toombs waited a few minutes after she left then moved into position himself.

* * *

Rob had claimed a spot in the back of the classroom to watch. Unfortunately, Jack had been right about the class not really having much to hold his attention. At first, they had worked through a series of forms and that had been rather interesting. Then they had done some sparring. He had enjoyed that part; Jack kicking butt was positively fascinating. However, for the past 10 minutes, they had been doing some guided meditation that was almost as interesting as watching grass grow. Rob allowed his mind to wander. 

Jack's assertion earlier about the nature of her relationship with the infamous Riddick had put him more at ease than he had felt in several days. He had looked the man up after she told him her story and found some old wanted photos of him. Rob had always been relatively confident in his dealings with girls, but Jack was different. Moreover, when he saw how her eyes lit up as she talked about the notorious serial killer, he had, quite frankly, been thoroughly intimidated. How the hell was he supposed to compete with someone like that?

But if Jack thought of Riddick as a brother, that made things different. He didn't have to worry about competing with a brother-not that he could if he wanted to, that was the nature of brothers.

Rob slowly became aware of someone standing in front of him and refocused his attention on Jack. She smiled indulgently, if smugly, at him and said, "I told you, you'd be bored."

Rob gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry. Is it that obvious?"

"No, but I know your glazed look. You don't have to stick around, you know."

"I want to," he protested. "I'll try to pay more attention. Promise. And then I can walk you home. Of course if along the way we happen upon some nice dark spot, and we happen to make out…"

Jack laughed as he waggled his eyebrows at her. He had hoped she would; he loved the way her laugh sounded. "So… I've found your ulterior motive, eh?" she said still grinning. "How bout a compromise? There's a pub just down the street. They have lots of vid screens. You can wait for me there and I'll meet you when I finish up here. It'll only be another 30 minutes or so."

"You wouldn't mind?" he asked hopefully, already standing.

"Course not. Why would I?"

"I don't have time to get into the details of the psyches of most females. Suffice to say, most girls I've dated wouldn't care how bored I was; they'd want me to stay to the bitter end."

"Well, I'm not most girls," she shot back at that comment, defiantly placing her hands on her hips.

"Damn, straight. You're way better," he told her as he brushed a kiss on her cheek. "See ya in a bit."

He,then, beat a hasty retreat. In the pub, he grabbed a spot by a window so he could spot her when she left. He ordered a pint of his favorite dark ale and settled in, halfway watching a zero-g soccer game on a convenient screen while he waited.

About 45 minutes later students started filtering out of the small dojo. Rob watched for Jack, but she still did not exit. He slipped his credit chip into the reader at his table and then pressed his thumb to the scanner to settle his bill. As the transaction completed, she finally exited and began walking down the street in the direction of the pub. Rob paused to watch her through the window, loving the languid grace with which she moved.

Suddenly, a figure moved from the shadows of an alley as she walked past. Rob felt cold fingers of fear wrap around his heart as he realized that someone was going to attack her. _No, not Jack!_ he thought as he dashed for the door of the pub. By the time he reached the portal, the guy had grabbed her and was dragging her into the alleyway. She was fighting him and Rob saw a metal object go flying from his hand. The man cuffed her hard and she stumbled to the ground.

Before she could rise, he reached inside his jacket, withdrew a gun and pointed it at her. Instinct took over and Rob raced into the street. Without a thought to his own safety, he yelled, "Let her go, you fuck!"

The man looked up, obviously startled, and the gun swung in Rob's direction. As Jack turned her head, he saw a flash from the gun muzzle and heard muted pop sound. Then, he felt an explosion of pain in his stomach, followed by a wash of cold. Rob dropped to his knees, grasping his abdomen. When he looked down, bright red fluid covered his hands.

* * *

A/N: Well, I probably won't get a chance to post over the weekend so I figured I'd post another chapter today. Enjoy and thanks so much for reading. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

Time slowed to a standstill. That's how it felt to Jack, anyway. She saw Rob drop to his knees, saw the blood flowing from the wound and then everything around her just stopped moving. She turned to look back at the man who had fired the bullet. There was a rushing sound in her ears as she stood and moved toward the shooter.

Jack grabbed the man's wrist and twisted while pressing on the appropriate nerve bundle causing his grip on the gun to relax. Her martial arts teacher had been working on a pressure point technique with them for the past few weeks, and the move was almost too easy.

As he released it, she caught the firearm in her free hand and then stepped away from the guy. It was a small gun with some sort of cylinder on the front. _A silencer?_ she thought; she'd seen them in vids but not in person. She felt the weight of the gun in her hand as she slipped her finger through the trigger guard and brought it to bear on the bastard who had just shot Rob... the fucker who had destroyed her world. She felt hatred for the man fill her being. Part of her was surprised that it was such a cold emotion. She would have expected more rage; however, she felt perfectly still and in control.

As though in slow motion, the merc made a lunge for her in an attempt to regain his weapon. She pulled the trigger, the gun kicked upward in her hand and the small man fell to the ground clutching his shoulder. She had aimed for his chest, but the kick had sent the bullet into his shoulder instead.

Suddenly, time started moving again. The merc scrambled backward frantically, whimpering for mercy. Jack glanced back at Rob who had crumpled to the pavement on his side. Pain contorted his face and he feebly lifted a blood-covered hand toward her. Now, the rage hit.

Jack felt a flood of heat as the image of Rob burned itself into her brain. There was a rushing in her ears as she turned back to the injured merc. She glanced at the gun in her hand and then deliberately aimed at the man. Her vision blurred and heat blossomed on her cheeks as tears began to slide from her eyes. She pulled the trigger again, this time trying to compensate for the kick of the weapon. She pulled it twice more and the man was knocked backward a bit with each shot. After the third shot, he lay still with an irregular triangle of wounds in his chest and abdomen.

As she fired the third shot, another man came barreling toward her. "You bitch! You killed Sanchez!" he shouted as he tackled her. Jack's training once again took over, and she rolled with the tackle, still holding the gun. The new guy wrestled with her for the gun. In the struggle, her hand tightened around the grip as she tried to hold onto it. Her finger tensed against the trigger and she felt the weapon kick again. There was a look of shock on her assailant's face and then he collapsed atop her. She felt a rush of warmth flow from him across her body and vaguely realized that he was bleeding on her.

The man was heavy, but she forced him off her and struggled to her feet. Blood covered her front and the gun was now slippery in her hand. Tasting salt from the tears streaking down her face, Jack scrambled to Rob's side. She knelt beside him and dropped the gun on the ground next to her.

He was in obvious pain and his face was very pale. He had one hand clasped over the wound and she could see blood and other dark fluid leaking around his fingers. He looked at her front and an expression of concern warred with the pain in his face. "Jack… you're… hurt…" he gasped as his hand weakly brushed at the red soaking her shirt.

"No, Robby, it's not my blood. But, you… Oh God, Robby! We gotta get you to a doctor!" she said. She reached to touch his face, but pulled back as she realized that her hands were covered with blood. She frantically wiped them against her pants trying to remove the offending substance. _There's so much blood! What do I do?_ she thought. Her hands shook when she reached out to him. She stroked his face and her fingers left faint pinkish streaks where she touched him. "Help! Will somebody help me?" she pleaded to the empty street.

"Jack… I'm sorry, Jack," he said and his free hand found hers and squeezed weakly. "I love you… but… I… couldn't… protect you. Sorry… I'm not… not…"

"No. No, no, no. Robby, it isn't your fault," she bent and kissed him. "I love you, too. And, you're gonna be all right. We're gonna get you a doctor and he'll make you good as new." Her tears fell onto his face and made streaks in the blood smudges she had left when she touched him before.

"Love… you… Jack," he said and then Robby's eyes rolled wildly and he passed out. He wasn't dead, but his breath came in gasps. Jack cradled his head against her as terror ripped through her soul. A wordless sob tore from her throat and her tears splashed onto his face.

She felt a touch against her neck and experienced a rush of relief, thinking someone had finally come to help when she felt a prick of pain. She turned her head and saw a woman with dark, curly hair. Warmth spread through her numbing her system and then everything went dark.

* * *

Kyra bent to the now unconscious girl and pressed her fingers to the pulse in her neck. Strong reassuring thumps greeted her, and she was relieved that at least the tranquilizer seemed to be working as planned even through every thing else had gone to hell. The girl had collapsed over the young man that Sanchez shot and Kyra gently eased her to the side. She knelt and began checking the boy as Toombs came pounding up the street. 

"Fuck!" he yelled as he surveyed the scene. She waved for him to check on Sanchez and Jones while she continued searching for the boy's pulse.

Toombs quickly checked the other men and then stepped up beside her. At her questioning look, he shook his head and said, "They're both dead. Kid's a damn lucky shot. What about him?"

She shook her head sadly: "No pulse. From all the blood, bullet probably nicked an artery. I think it got his liver, too. It's a wonder he lasted as long as he did."

"Fuck! This was supposed to be a clean op. Now, I've lost two men and I've got a dead bystander… a motherfucking civilian! Why the fuck can't anything about this job go as planned! What the fuck was Sanchez thinking… I fucking said no shooting!"

"Toombs, we gotta get out of here," Kyra interrupted before he got any further into his rant. She stood and stepped aside so that he could pick up the girl.

"Damn! I hate this shit!" he said as he tossed the limp form over his shoulder and headed down a convenient alley. "I'm heading to the ship. You go take care of the motel. Check Jones' and Sanchez's room too. No need to grab their shit, but make sure there isn't anything to link us to them."

"What about the bodies?" she asked as she fell into step beside him.

"Fuck 'em. Let the local cops deal with their worthless asses," he snarled. As she started to slip away to retrieve their gear from the hotel, he called after her, "Kyra, be quick. I wanna get out of here before anything else gets fucked up."

She nodded and then quickly made her way back to their lodgings. She grabbed the few things from the room she and Toombs had shared. She was thankful that they had checked in separately from Jones and Sanchez. Hopefully, it would make the cops less likely to link them to the other two mercs. She pulled on a pair of gloves and slipped out the back window of the room. She scaled to the next floor then jimmied the latch to enter into the other mercs' room.

She did a quick search of the room and retrieved a couple of items that might have aroused suspicions. She also found a small box full of plastic tubes and a metal auto-injector among Sanchez's things. _Son-of-a-bitch! The motherfucker was a hype! No wonder he seemed high-strung,_ she thought as she tucked one of the vials into her pocket. _Toombs is gonna love this!_

With her search complete, she slipped back out the window and re-latched it. She checked out of the motel, making polite conversation and even flirting with the young, male desk clerk, even though her insides screamed for her to hurry. When he had finished totaling her bill, she paid him and left, making sure to keep her demeanor as casual as she could. Once she was out of site of the office, she broke into a ground eating trot and swiftly made her way to the Purgatory.

* * *

Toombs carried the girl back to the shuttle and securely restrained her in the back. He had to readjust the restraints to fit her small frame because they were designed for much larger convict types, but he was taking no chances. This kid had taken out two of his men, sloppy, unprofessional men who'd royally fucked up to be sure, but still two men. 

The girl slumped bonelessly in the restraint chair. She was covered in the boy's and Jones's blood, which had started drying making her clothing stick to her in odd little ripples as the fabric stiffened. He almost felt sorry for her, but pushed the emotion away. _It's just a job… Do the job, get paid and put this shit behind ya._

He abruptly turned away from the kid and moved to the front of the ship. He started prepping so that he could take off as soon as Kyra got back. True to form, she didn't waste any time.

No more than 30 minutes later, she came on board, sealed the hatch and then dropped into the co-pilot's seat. He immediately pressurized the craft and took off. Once they left the atmosphere, he laid in a course for Helion 5 and engaged the autopilot.

When he at last turned to look at Kyra, she frowned and said, "Sorry, Toombs."

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. "That could have gone a lot better than it did."

"No, I mean I personally am sorry. You asked me to watch Sanchez, but I… I don't know, maybe I wasn't paying enough attention. I don't really have an excuse, but I am sorry I fucked up."

"Shit, Kyra. It wasn't your fault. I wasn't feeling solid with Sanchez myself. I shouldn't have let him make the grab. I just can't figure out what the fuck the little prick was thinking, pulling a gun like that."

"I may have some insights into that," Kyra told him as she pulled the drug vials from her pocket. She handed them to him and continued, "I found these in his stuff. He was a fucking hype."

"Son-of-a-bitch! So, that's why he was so jittery! How the hell did he get around the piss test you gave all the new crew?"

Kyra shrugged. "Maybe he pulled a swap or something. That's some pretty exotic shit, there; maybe the doc just didn't look for it. Or maybe it don't show up in a piss test. I'll look into it. Check my records. Maybe retest the new crew. But ultimately, it don't really matter now; does it?"

"Not to that poor kid back there," he growled. He wasn't sure if he meant the girl in the restraint chair or the dead boy back on the planet; fortunately, she didn't ask for a clarification.

"So what now?"

"We finish the job," he said wearily. "Then we try to put this shit behind us. Hopefully, those robed bastards will be able to tell us where Riddick is and we can get back to some real bounty hunting."

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger in chapter eleven. Evil Grin Well, not really, but still... I am really glad that all of you are enjoying my story. I know I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it. And thank you so much for all the positive feedback. It's nice to hear that the story resonates for other people as it does for me. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen **

As Jack slowly came awake, she felt like she was making her way through water, swimming toward the surface. Her mouth tasted like it was filled with cotton. She swallowed several times but couldn't rid herself of the dryness. She realized that she was sitting up and had a stiff neck from the awkward position. She started to stretch to relieve the cramps in her neck and back, but she discovered that her hands were securely strapped to the arms of the chair.

_What the hell? Where am I?_ she thought muzzily. She heard the distant mumble of a male voice. "Robby?" she said aloud. But no, it was too deep—older than Robby's baritone—and now a female voice was answering. She heard footsteps approach and forced her eyes open. Her vision was a little blurry and she blinked several times trying to focus.

"How ya feeling, kid?" the female voice asked from one side. Jack turned her head to look in the direction of the voice and her eyes finally decided to focus, showing her a woman of about 20 with long dark curly hair and a curvaceous figure. The woman seemed familiar but Jack couldn't place her; her mind was still too foggy. The woman stepped forward with a plastic pouch pierced with a straw and held the straw to Jack's lips. "Drink," she commanded. "You'll feel better in a bit. That knockout juice tends to leave you a little parched."

Jack drew experimentally on the straw and tasted sweet, orange flavor, not juice, more like a sports, rehydration drink. She drank deeply and did feel a little better: _Now if I only knew where the hell I am and what the hell is going on. And why can't I move my arms?_ She looked down and saw thick web straps holding her lower arms into place on some sort of chair. She suddenly realized that similar straps restrained her legs and anchored her midsection firmly into the chair. She looked back at the woman and started to ask, "What the hell is—"

That was when the memory hit. She suddenly recognized the woman from the quick glance that she had gotten before blacking out while she tried to help... A gasp of almost physical pain tore from her as her mind provided the image of Rob lying in the street while she tried to come up with something that would help him.

"Robby… Oh, God…" she said as the tears started flowing while her mind played back the memories of what had happened. She turned to the woman in desperation. "Lady, you have to tell me, is he all right? Did you get a doctor for Robby?"

"I'm sorry, Jacqueline. There was nothing I could do," the woman said with a hint of regret in her business like voice. "He was gone too quickly."

"NO! Don't say that! Please, tell me you're lying…" Jack pleaded. Tears began to sheet over her face as her mind repeatedly replayed the scene of Rob running to save her and then falling to his knees as the shot hit him. She began to struggle frantically against her bonds and she cursed at the woman, "You bitch, quit lying and tell me where he is. What did you fucking do to him? Goddamn you, let me go! I've gotta save him, I've gotta get a doctor!"

Jack closed her eyes as the grief swelled inside her. It wasn't possible. Rob couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. He was too alive to die—to much a part of her now. However, her mind betrayed her by bringing up images of him covered in blood as more of the vital fluid oozed from beneath her fingers. Her breathe came in gasps as the pain inside her welled up choking off her sobs. It was a physical presence hardening into a tight ball in her throat and constricting her stomach. She suddenly felt nauseated and wished she hadn't drunk the orange stuff so quickly.

Tears blurred her vision as they fell in a constant stream and her nose began sheeting fluid that tasted salty as it trickled into her mouth. She instinctively tried to lift her hand to wipe the mucus away, but once again discovered she was unable to move her hand because of the restraints. This caused her to struggle frantically for a moment before she slumped in the chair giving in to the crashing swells of grief that swept over her.

* * *

As Kyra watched, the girl began thrashing against her bonds and then seemed to collapse into the chair as though defeated. She started to step forward, but the girl spoke, "No, no, no, no…" At first, Kyra thought it was to warn her way, but then the words blended into a single long keen of sound as the young woman poured out her grief. Kyra didn't know what to do and she turned to Toombs who had been drawn to the rear cabin by the sound of the girl's anguish. 

"What'd you do to her?" he asked.

"Nothing," Kyra asserted. "I never touched her. She asked about that other kid and I told her he didn't make it. Then she started this."

"Can't you make her stop?"

"And what the fuck would you recommend I do to make her stop?" she snapped. "The kid obviously knew the boy. He was probably a lover or something. I think the only thing to do is let her work through this herself."

"I've lost lovers before," Toombs informed her. "I didn't sound like this when it happened! Jesus, she's givin' me a headache. Maybe we should dope her again."

"Toombs, you are a heartless bastard sometimes. Besides, it isn't good to use too much of that stuff. It addles the brain."

"If she doesn't stop that noise, it's gonna addle my brain!"

"Just get out!" Kyra said and pushed him toward the cockpit. She closed the door behind him and then tried to figure out what to do about the distraught teenager. After another few moments' deliberation, she grabbed some disposable towels from the galley and moistened part of them with warm water. She then returned to the restraint chair and began gently wiping the girl's face with the wet towels.

She seemed to come back to herself a bit. She shook her head back and forth avoiding Kyra's ministrations. "Just leave me alone. Please…"

A rush of pity and empathy flowed through Kyra as she remembered how she had felt when her father died. Impulsively, she hit the release button for the restraints on the chair. As they retracted, the girl slumped forward and Kyra caught her. She wrapped her arms around the girl's shaking shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. The slender young woman returned Kyra's embrace like a drowning person grabbing a life vest. Kyra drew them both down to the floor and then rocked the young woman gently, crooning to her as she sobbed out her pain.

* * *

For the second time, Jack felt like she was swimming back to the surface of a deep pool only this time it was her own emotions she struggled against rather than consciousness. Gradually, the ache in her soul dulled enough that she could be human again and she began to perceive her surroundings once more. The dark haired woman was stroking her hair and murmuring to her. They sat on the floor beside the chair, which had previously restrained Jack. _She must be a nurse or something,_ Jack reasoned. _They must have had me in that chair to keep me from hurting myself._

Jack pushed back slightly and tried to smile to let the woman know that the worst was over. She doubted her effort had been very successful, but the woman seemed to get the point. Jack noticed that the shoulder of the woman's shirt was thoroughly soaked from what Jack presumed were her own tears. "Sorry about your shirt," she offered weakly.

"Forget it, it'll dry," the woman dismissed the dampness with a small laugh. Then her face filled with concern and she seemed to stumble over her next words, "But you, Jacqueline… how are… I mean, how do you…"

"I'm tired. I just feel really tired," Jack said with a deep sigh. "And no one calls me 'Jacqueline'. It's just 'Jack'."

"Okay, Jack," she acknowledged and then she indicated several cryo couches. "You can crash here on one of the cryo couches if you want. No need for cryo, since we'll be arriving in just a few hours, but they'll still do for sleeping."

"Cryo?" Jack said puzzled but with a growing sense of suspicion. With her initial grief spent, details of the encounter that had led to Robby's death began to come back to her. Something the bastard had said as he grabbed her. _What was it… 'Hello, payday.' Yes, that was it._ At the time, she'd thought he was a mugger and that he was referring to the money he'd likely steal from her. Now she wasn't so sure.

She scooted away from the woman who was sitting beside her on the floor. "Wait, we're on a ship? You aren't a nurse are you? And if you aren't a nurse, then who-the-fuck _are_ you?"

"I'm Kyra. I—" she started, but Jack cut her off.

"You were with _them_ ... those murdering bastards who killed Rob!" Jack accused as realization finally hit her and dark, vicious anger began rising inside her, displacing the grief. "That's why you were there so quickly. You bitch! You killed him! Why? What the hell is going on here?"

Kyra made calming motions with her hands, "Listen, it wasn't supposed to happen that way. You were supposed to be alone…"

"And because I wasn't you just murdered him?" Jack's voice had increased in volume as the anger rose. Now the bubble of rage burst inside her and she launched herself at the other woman with a primal shriek.

* * *

The suddenness of the girl's attack caught Kyra off guard. She took a hard blow to the jaw before her instincts kicked in and she began to defend herself. She tossed Jack to the side and then leapt to pin her down. The kid got in another decent punch before Kyra immobilized her. Kyra was actually impressed at how well she fought for a civilian. The kid had obviously had some training, but she was still no professional. Without much ado, Kyra had her pinned face down to the floor with her hands behind her back. 

"Get off me, you murdering bitch!" Jack screamed.

"What the fuck is going on here!" Toombs roared from the doorway, effectively stilling the struggles of the two women. The sound of the altercation had obviously drawn him to the rear cabin. He now looked as angry as, or possibly angrier than, Kyra had ever seen him. "What the hell is the prisoner doing out of the restraint chair, Kyra?"

"Um... Well, Toombs, you see..."

"I see that you've lost your fucking MIND! What in the name of hell could have prompted you to release a prisoner from her restraints mid-flight?"

Kyra glanced down at the girl beneath her. Jack's eyes flashed with dangerous hate. Kyra looked back at Toombs with a contrite expression. "Sorry, Toombs. I fucked up big time on this one."

"Damn right you did," he agreed as he moved forward to assist her with Jack. Between the two of them, they wrestled her into the restraint chair. They were given a unique opportunity to sample the depth of Jack's vocabulary of swear words during the ordeal. They received several bruises each and Toombs got a nasty gash on his arm when he got it too close to Jack's teeth. However, Kyra realized that her misstep might have cost them more had the girl gotten hold of a weapon.

"So what _were_ you thinking? You know better than to pull a stunt like that."

Kyra sighed heavily and looked at the girl who had lapsed into angry silence after Toombs threatened to use a bit if she didn't settle down. Jack was staring daggers and Kyra could see the muscles in her jaw clench and relax as she ground her teeth together. Kyra shook her head and looked back at Toombs. "She got to me. She reminded me of how I felt when Pop died. I guess I wanted to comfort her or something. I'm sorry, Toombs. I let my emotions get in the way of my job."

"What emotions, you fucking murderer! You mean the ones you showed so handily when you slaughtered Rob? And if you're planning to ransom me, you've completely fucked up. I'm just an ex-streetpunk who isn't worth a goddamn dime!" Jack spat at them.

"What did I tell you about that mouth?" Toombs snapped and turned to look at Jack. Kyra watched the battle of wills as they glared at one another, neither willing to back down.

_Damn, that kid has some kind of nerve. She'd make a damned fine merc if she wanted to,_ Kyra thought as she watched them face off. She felt the need to intervene so that both could save face. She placed her hand on Toombs's arm to draw his attention away from Jack. "Toombs, you should let me see to that bite," she told him and took a leading step toward the first aid station.

Kyra was afraid she might have said the wrong thing when he glanced at the wound on his arm and then glared at Jack once again. Her apprehension increased as a sound like a growl began to rise from his chest; however, her fears were dispelled as a terse laugh erupted from him. "Goddamnit! Somebody save me from mouthy women," he rumbled as he extended his arm for Kyra to tend the gash. "Riddick may not know it, but I'm putting all this damned trouble on his account."

* * *

_Riddick?_ Jack thought and she suddenly felt cold shock, banishing her rage. _They're after Riddick. They must think I know something. Oh, my God. All of this was because of me, because I know Riddick._

Jack felt the guilt flare up inside her, but she took a firm rein on her emotions. She refused to give in to them a second time. _Come on, Jack, you gotta be strong now. For Riddick and for Rob. This ain't your fault. The ones to blame are these no good mercs._

Jack felt a new wellspring of strength within her as her resolve hardened. She gazed at Toombs and Kyra memorizing their features. _Someday, I'm gonna pay you back with interest._

Toombs turned back, met her level gaze. "What the fuck are you looking at, brat?"

"A piece of shit merc," she answered flatly. She couldn't resist taunting him a bit. "Riddick was right about you people. You're all alike: a bunch of scumbags who'll do anything for a paycheck. You people don't give a damn about anyone or anything except lining your own pocket. And if you have to slaughter an innocent person to do it... well then, fuck 'em, right? But this time you fucked up. I don't know where he is. So you've gone to all that trouble for nothing. You aren't gonna get your precious payday and when they figure out who ghosted Robby, you're gonna be extremely sorry you ever even heard of Richard B. Riddick."

Jack noticed Kyra's pained expression at her accusation. She might actually have liked the other woman under different circumstances. She was, however, surprised as a flicker of remorse crossed Toombs's face before a cocksure expression asserted itself. He turned and headed toward the door to what Jack assumed was the cockpit. Just before he stepped through the door he tossed back almost casually, "Actually, our target this time was Jacqueline Audrey Page. So I suppose, we'll get our payday after all."

Then he was gone, leaving Jack to stare at Kyra. She tried to put as much malevolence as possible into her gaze. Kyra seemed about to speak for a moment, but then she shook her head and followed Toombs, leaving Jack alone to deal with her still raw grief and to ponder the implications of Toombs's last revelation.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Author Note: **I didn't get a chance to post a chapter yesterday, so I'm doing two today to make up for it. And for those not interested in my ramblings, the meaty stuff is about half a page down.

Several people have asked if Riddick will show up soon... To put your minds at ease, he has a cameo in this chapter and will appear in a couple more chapters before I reunite him and Jack (at which point he'll join the 'cast' full time).

Whitelite: You asked about the Jack/Kyra thing and whether I was following the CoR canon. Yes, I am following the events of CoR, but I'm putting my own spin on them. I always really liked the original actress who played Jack, so I was disappointed when they replaced her (especially given that she wanted and auditioned for the part). So given that Jack from PB and Dark Fury is one actress (Rhiana Griffith) and Kyra from CoR is another (Alexa Davalos), I figured what they heck. Why can't they be different people in the story as well. As for how Kyra ends up on Crematoria... evil grin keep reading. All questions will be answered in due time.

Finally, thanks so much to everyone for their support. I really appreciate it more than I can possibly say.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen **

Toombs frowned at the console of the Purgatory. He called up a display that indicated they would arrive at Helion 5 in about an hour. His movements were deliberate as the irritation in him simmered. _Damn, kid!_

"She got to you, too. Didn't she?" Kyra said from behind him. She then moved forward and dropped into the co-pilot's chair.

"This whole job has gotten to me. This is not why I got into this business. The thing that gets me is the fucking kid is right. We _are_ responsible for that boy's death. I hate that... civilian casualties are what give mercs a bad name."

"It's not your fault that Sanchez was hyped up and pulled a gun when you'd specifically said no shooting."

Toombs turned to look at her. "I'm the one put him on the team in the first place. That makes me responsible. But the truth is, I'm gonna have to suck it up and deal with it. We both are."

"You're right. And, I've read Riddick's rap sheet. He's a brutal, inhuman monster. How many lives will we save in the long run if we bring him in? Hundreds, maybe. As tragic as the loss of that boy's life is, if it means we get Riddick, maybe it'll be worth it."

"Baby, I hope so. And if it helps you deal, then you focus on it. As for me, I'm a bounty hunter; I'm not supposed to have to worry about moral dilemmas. I'm just supposed to bring in the bad guys and make a good paycheck doing it. But you know, this shit just takes all the fun out of being a merc," Toombs said with a wry grin.

Kyra responded to his attempt at humor with a weak smile. Her distress bothered Toombs and he extended his hand to her. When she took it, he gently pulled her from the co-pilot's seat and then guided her into his own lap. Kyra wrapped her arms around him and leaned against him. She seemed tired, worn down by the recent events. He nuzzled her neck and traced his tongue along the arch of her ear. She shivered delightfully and pulled back so that she was looking him in the face. There was a hint of her normal sparkle in her eyes. "Tell ya what, baby. We finish this job, we'll go someplace fun for a while. We deserve it... hell, the whole crew deserves a break."

* * *

_Jack slumped sideways in the restraint chair, letting her mind wander. She was trying to figure out who could have sent bounty hunters after her, but she wasn't having any luck. Suddenly, the restraints, which held Jack into the chair, released and slid into their housings. _

"_What the… Hello?" Jack said. There was no response. She stood rubbing her arms and stretching to relieve the tension of sitting in one position for too long. Jack moved cautiously to the door that separated the cabin with the restraint chair and cryotubes from what she assumed was the cockpit. She pressed her hand to the lock pad and the door opened instantly. She stepped through the portal into a cabin that was extremely familiar. _

_There were two chairs at the front of the ship, which offered a view into deep space. Along the walls, there were several more cryotubes as well as jump seats. Jack suddenly realized this was the shuttle in which she, Imam and Riddick had escaped from Chillingsworth's ship. She glanced over her shoulder, and the door through which she had entered was gone. "I must be dreaming," she said aloud to herself._

_To her surprise, the pilot's chair at the front spun around and Riddick grinned at her. "Yeah, kid, you must."_

"_Riddick!" she exclaimed and her body moved toward him almost of its own volition. She pulled up just in front of him, afraid to touch him lest the apparition dissipate. The dream Riddick apparently had no such fear because he stood and pulled her into fierce hug that brought back a flood of memories. "I've missed you," she mumbled into his chest as she hugged him back just as fiercely. _

"_Missed you too, kid," he informed her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He held her a little away from him and stared at her for a moment. _

"_I'm sorry, Riddick. I didn't mean for them to capture me, but I didn't know they were coming. And they hurt... no, killed..." Jack trailed off as a lump formed in her throat._

"_Listen, kid, this ain't your fault. You've always been strong. You stay tough through whatever they throw at you. I promise you, one of these days, we'll take care of the bastards responsible for this. You got me?"_

_Jack nodded, unable to speak, and placed her hand on his chest. She could feel the solid rhythm of his heart beating against her palm. He pulled her into another hug and said quietly. "I gotta go now, Jack."_

"_No, Riddick. Just stay a little longer. I need you," she said as tears prickled behind her eyes. He ran his fingers along her hairline and cupped her face in his hands. One thumb brushed at a tear that had leaked from the inner corner of her eye and was tracing a path down her face. _

"_I'm with ya, kid. I'm always with ya," he said and then tapped her chest. "I'm in here."_

_She felt a tug and he was abruptly a long way away. "I love you, Riddick," she called across the distance, and then she was back in the restraint chair_.

Jack jerked as someone grasped her hand. With the remnants of the dream still clouding her mind, she half-expected to see Riddick when she opened her eyes and she smiled warmly at him. Unfortunately, instead of Riddick's features, Toombs's arrogant face greeted her. Jack felt her smile twist into a sneer of disdain as she realized who had awakened her.

Toombs attached a shackle to her right wrist and then released the restraint on that side. Jack tried to jerk away from him, but his grip on her arm was like iron. He smirked at her as she tugged against him and then forcefully pulled her arm across her body and secured it with another shackle to her left wrist. Jack tensed waiting for him to release her left side. Her plan was to strike him with the manacles as soon as she was free. She didn't really think it would help her escape, but she was eager to get in a good hit on the arrogant merc.

To her disappointment, he did not disengage the restraint. Instead, he retrieved a metal rod with a length of chain at each end. Jack glared at him: "What? You've got me tied up and now you're gonna beat me with a chain? Real classy, merc."

"I've warned you about that smart mouth of yours, girl," he cautioned with a grin that caused Jack's hair to stand on end. She hardened her resolve and shifted her gaze to a point behind him, studiously refusing to acknowledge his presence any further, regardless of how he might abuse her.

To Jack's surprise, rather than thrashing her, he clipped the length of chain on one end of the rod to a clasp between the manacles. As she glanced down at the rig, she realized that its purpose was to prevent her from reaching the leg restraints that would surely be placed on her ankles. She raised her eyes to Toombs. His expression told her he was highly amused at her assumption that he was going to strike her. She was tempted to make an acid remark about his need to use such elaborate restraints for sixteen-year-old girl; however, she had little doubt that he would follow through with his threat to gag her, so she clamped her teeth together on any further comments. Instead, she once again focused behind him, deliberately ignoring him as he shackled her ankles and clipped the other end of the chain-rod to the leg-restraint.

"We'll be arriving in about 30 minutes. So, don't get too comfy," he tossed back at her as he walked back to the front cabin. Jack continued to ignore him, refusing to rise to the bait of his poor attempt at humor.

Once Toombs closed the door, she tried to slip her right wrist free of the cuff, but it was too secure. It didn't pinch, but it wrapped around the narrowest part of her wrist so snuggly that she was unable to even shift it up and down her arm, much less force it over her hand. She leaned her head back against the chair and tried to get comfortable as she felt the ship make the characteristic dip that indicated it was moving downward through atmosphere.

* * *

Due to its position in the Helion system, the mining colony on Helion 5 was dependant on one of Helion Prime's signature beacons for its light and energy. A specialized satellite network distributed the energy to the surface of the planet; however, the network's presence made landing on H-5 a tricky endeavor. While most pilots depended on computer homing systems to guide their ships down, Toombs took pride in flying the difficult course by hand. 

He expertly landed the Purgatory at the spaceport in Santiago, the capital of Helion 5, and then sat back with a smug grin at Kyra. She laughed with genuine humor and clapped in appreciation of his skill. Her response heartened Toombs, relieving some of his concern over the effect this mission was having on her. As he completed the shutdown of the ship, his mind turned to the task ahead, delivering the girl to the group who had hired him. His mood and expression both became uncharacteristically grim. Kyra moved up behind him and squeezed his shoulder. The gesture was reassuring and he captured her hand and pressed a brief kiss of thanks into the palm.

"Well, let's get this shit over with," he growled and she nodded curtly in agreement. He rose from the seat and stretched before retrieving a gun-belt, which held a pair of impressive pistols, from the weapons locker. He stepped aside to give Kyra access to her weapons and then strapped the belt around his waist. He tested the draw of the pistols and adjusted the belt a bit. He drew the guns a second time and then, satisfied with their position, secured the holsters to his legs with small straps. Kyra performed a similar procedure with a shoulder holster.

When she was happy with the fit of her weapons, he led the way to the back cabin and Jack. The girl glared at them from the restraint chair, but she said nothing. Apparently, his admonishments about her sarcastic remarks had gotten through to her because for once she held her tongue. Nevertheless, the accusation in her eyes spoke volumes without her uttering a word. His own conscience niggled at him as he hit the release and helped Jack to her feet, but it was Kyra's pained expression that made him wish he could justify blindfolding the girl to cut off that condemning gaze.

Instead, he grasped her elbow and prodded her forward. The girl shook off his grasp and began shuffling toward the open hatch. Toombs shook his head in admiration at her defiance. She was definitely a tough kid, and he could see why someone like Riddick might have taken to her. He reflected ironically that under other circumstances, he would be trying to recruit her rather than delivering her in chains.

The girl stumbled slightly as she made her way down the ramp. Kyra leapt forward to catch her, preventing her from falling headlong to the tarmac of the landing site.

"Careful," Kyra said as she steadied Jack and helped her down the incline. Once she was on flat ground, Jack jerked away and glared at Kyra. She seemed about to speak, but then glanced at Toombs. He saw her jaw tighten and she looked away from the two of them. A hurt expression flickered across Kyra's face and increased Toombs's annoyance at their insolent, young prisoner.

Toombs was thankful that the agency had provided the air car he had requested before beginning his descent. He wanted to complete this task as quickly and smoothly as possible. He jerked open the door of the vehicle and made an overly elaborate flourish for Jack's benefit. "Your carriage awaits, your highness."

Jack glared at him and didn't move. His irritation spiked and he snarled at her. "Get in or I'll put you in the cargo hold."

The thin line of her lips twitched slightly and her green eyes flashed, but she shuffled forward and climbed awkwardly into the back seat. Once she was in, he slammed the door then opened the front passenger door for Kyra. Obviously bemused by his gallantry, she quirked her eyebrow at him with a smirk before entering the vehicle. Shaking his head, he crossed to the opposite side of the vehicle and climbed in behind the controls.

Toombs started the car and guided it out of the spaceport and into traffic. The address they had been given was in the heart of the Santiago business district and the drive from the spaceport on the outskirts of the town took about 30 minutes. Tense silence reigned during the entire ride.

Toombs identified their destination before he saw the sign indicating the address. It was a soaring glass and iron structure that was very similar to the one they had visited on Aquila 3. Per his instructions, he pulled into an underground parking area and stopped at a loading dock where a man in a nondescript, dark suit met them.

"You are Mr. Toombs, I presume," the man said when Toombs exited the car. The suit's eyes flicked over Toombs's tall form, blatantly surveying his appearance: military boots, cargo pants, and a sleeveless vest. From his expression, he obviously found Toombs wanting.

"That's me," Toombs replied as he returned the man's appraisal just as deliberately and sneered back at him. "Now, who the fuck are you?"

"You have the package?" the other man continued. His eyes shifted quickly to Kyra who had exited the air car and then returned to Toombs.

"She's in the back," Toombs said and gestured with his thumb toward the back seat of the car. The man's supercilious attitude was chafing to Toombs's already raw mood, but he held his tongue. _This little prick is just a lackey, no sense wasting effort on him._

"Very good. If you will bring her and follow me, my employers would like to speak to you in person to complete the transaction."

* * *

Jack fidgeted in the back seat of the air car. Her restraints didn't allow much movement, but she stretched as much as possible to ease the growing soreness in her muscles. She also realized with a rising urgency, that she hadn't had the opportunity to use the bathroom recently. She considered needling Toombs about his oversight, wondering if he would make good on his threat to gag her now that they had obviously arrived at their destination. She decided that it was worth the risk when the rear door was forcefully jerked open and Toombs stuck his head in. 

"Last stop, kid. Time for the 'evil mercs' to get their payday," he said sarcastically as he reached for her elbow. He stared at her briefly and Jack was once again surprised by the brief flicker of remorse that escaped from behind his mask of arrogance. Jack stifled the invective she had planned to hurl at him. She looked at him questioningly, allowing her own expression to soften a bit, but then his smirk was back in place leaving her to wonder if she had simply imagined the other emotion.

Jack allowed him to help her climb out of the vehicle and then shook his hand off. She found herself in a parking facility facing a man she had never seen before. He looked at her as though she were an unsavory object then turned and motioned for them to follow him. She summoned her pride and defiance against the trill of fear that tingled in her mind. She stood at attention the way captured soldiers always did in the vids and shuffled along between Kyra and Toombs.

The man led them through a set of automatic doors into a long pristinely white corridor. There were numerous, identical, unmarked doors opening off the main passageway, but Jack didn't have time to examine them. She did wonder how anyone managed to distinguish one from another without needing to count from one end or the other each time. She guessed there was some sort of electronic identifier, because the man in the suit led them unerringly to one of the doors, which he opened. He ushered them through into a large, dim chamber lit by some sort of indirect lighting for which Jack could not determine a source. The only furnishings in the room were a row of four large, heavy chairs in its center.

As their guide led them before the chairs, she heard Toombs grumble under his breath. "Not this shit again. I should have known. Goddamned, megalomaniacal, robed bastards. I hate this job."

Jack furrowed her brow and glanced at him in confusion. On her other side, she heard Kyra snort in amusement. "Eyes on the prize, Toombs," she muttered back to him. "This one sucks, but it's worth it if we get Big Evil."

_Who ever heard of a merc who wasn't happy to deliver his catch to his employer? This just gets more and more bizarre,_ Jack thought as she surveyed her surroundings again looking for any clues to the identity of those who had her brought here. During her distraction, their guide had managed to disappear, but a new form now detached itself from the darkness at the back of the room and moved toward them

The person was garbed in a dark colored robe and seemed to float across the floor. Jack found the motion extremely disconcerting. _This must be one of the 'robed bastards' who sent the mercs after me. Maybe, now I'll finally get some fucking answers._

The figure came to a stop in front of the chairs ."Check her."

Jack was shocked by how melodious the voice was. For some reason she had expected the insane cackle that vid villains often sported, not a voice that sounded like it should be singing arias. She was also rather surprised because the voice and even the bearing of the individual was that of a woman. She wasn't sure why she had expected a man. _Hey, just because the bad guys in the vids are always men, doesn't mean it has to be that way in real life,_ she chided herself.

Their original guide reappeared and crossed to them with a cylindrical device of some sort. In one smooth motion, he pressed the device against Jack's neck and she felt the prickly sting of a needle piercing her skin.

"Owww, hey!" she said and instinctively tried to raise her hand to her neck. The chain attached to her wrist cuffs stopped her movement short. She had to settle for glaring at the man who was studying a small readout on the instrument. She prepared to tell him off; however, before she could protest, Toombs iterated her question for her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he snapped and stepped toward the other man threateningly.

The man gave Toombs a glance of distaste, but did not respond. Apparently, he wasn't intimidated by the big merc. Instead, he walked to the robed figure and presented the device. "The DNA's a match. It's the right girl."

The hood of the robed figure nodded and then turned back to Toombs. The melodious voice floated across to them again. "It is just a bit of insurance, Mr. Toombs. We do not question your… integrity. However, it would be a pity if for some reason we received the wrong child. Surely, you understand?"

"Look, you've got her. Just give me my damned money so I can leave," the merc snarled back.

"Certainly," the robed woman replied smoothly. She handed something to the guide who carried it to Toombs. When he was close enough, Jack could see that it was a standard credit chip, obviously payment for delivering her. Toombs accepted the chip and made a show of sliding it into a reader he had unclipped from his belt.

"You will find that it is the amount we agreed upon, Mr. Toombs," the woman said.

"Sure. It's not that I don't trust ya. It'd just be a pity if for some reason I didn't get my money. I'm sure you understand," he said in a mocking voice.

"Of course," the woman replied with an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. "It has been a pleasure doing business with you. I'm certain that our future dealings will be equally enjoyable."

"Right, 'enjoyable,'" Toombs repeated with his voice laden with sarcasm. "Look, just tell me where to find Riddick. That's the agreement. I give you the kid and you give me the con."

"That is information that we must glean from the young lady, Mr. Toombs. We will contact you when we are ready to proceed with the operation."

Had she not been the commodity they were bargaining for, Jack would have found the whole exchange highly amusing. As it was, her anger was beginning to reassert itself.

"Hey, I _am_ in the room here, you know. And if you think I'm gonna rat out Riddick you've got another thing coming," Jack snapped as she stepped toward the robed woman.

The woman raised an arm vaguely in her direction and the guide withdrew another device and moved toward Jack with it. She tried to fend him off, but the restraints frustrated her attempt. He pressed the device against her neck and blackness once again rose up to swallow her. She felt her body begin to fall, but she was unconscious before she hit the floor.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

Jack awoke slowly and found herself in her usual sleeping position, curled into a ball with her head under the covers. She inhaled deeply and her nose filled with the homey smell of freshly washed sheets. _Wow. That was some kind of freaky nightmare,_ she thought as she stretched under the covers. _Rob is gonna tease me for weeks about being paranoid when he hears this one._

She grabbed the top edge of the sheet and pushed it down, expecting to see her dorm room with Val sleeping across from her. She stopped with the sheet at her chin. This was _not_ her dorm room.

In place of the vid posters with which she and Val had decorated, the walls bore bland floral prints. And the bed wasn't right either. She didn't know why she hadn't noticed it immediately. It felt different from her bed, and the sheets were the wrong color. They should have been dark blue with constellations on them—a gift from Val. Instead, these were stark white.

"Where the hell am I?" Jack asked the empty room as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She craned her neck to take in all the details of the room. There were no windows, but there was a large mirror along one wall. Jack studied her reflection and grimaced at the image. She looked pale and her hair had managed to work its way into a lopsided tangled mess while she slept. She was also wearing a set of pale yellow pajamas that she had never seen before.

_I look awful,_ she thought. She ran her hands through her hair and tried to ease out some of the tangles so that it would lie a little more smoothly. She scrubbed her hands over her face, but the effort did little to restore the color to her skin. While rolling her head around, she elicited a pop from one vertebra. Jack then ran her hands over her neck, massaging away tension.

"Ow," she exclaimed as her fingers moved over a particularly tender spot at the base of her throat. She fingered it experimentally and winced again. Dread rose inside her as she slipped from the bed and walked to the large mirror to examine the spot. It was an injection mark. Jack found a second mark further up and toward the back on her neck. The strange events she had recently experienced came back to her in a rush that made her stomach clench. "Not a dream," she whispered as she sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her legs with her back resting against the wall beneath the mirror.

She leaned her head against her knees and exhaled in a long shuddering sigh. Tears prickled at the back of her eyelids as she thought of Rob, but she clenched her teeth and deliberately controlled her emotions. _No time for a breakdown, Jack,_ she chided herself. _First, I gotta figure out what the hell is going on. Then, I gotta figure out how the hell I can get away from them. Once I'm back home, then I can think of other things and other people._

Jack wasn't sure how long she sat that way, but it couldn't have been very long. She was startled from her reverie by the sound of the door opening. _Door. Now why the hell didn't I think to check to see if it was unlocked? Come on, Jack! You're gonna have to do better than that if you wanna get out of here._

The door swung open to reveal a man dressed like a hospital orderly, wheeling in a cart with a covered plate on it. A faint hint of scent from the food underneath drifted to her and her stomach rumbled insistently. Jack ignored it and stood up with her jaw set.

"Hey, where am I? What the hell is this place? Why have I been brought here? What the fuck do you people want from me! " she demanded without preamble her voice rising with each question until she was shouting at the end.

"Um… Listen, I…" the orderly stammered.

"I want some damned answers!" she snapped as she crossed the floor to confront him. He was at least 6 inches taller than she was, but he shrank back from her as if in fear.

"Hey, I just work here. I can't say anything to you," he told her, cringing and backing away. When Jack moved to follow him, he retreated quickly and shut the door with a muttered, "Enjoy your dinner."

Jack heard a telltale click as the door closed, but she checked it anyway. It was locked. Frustration welled up inside her and she side-kicked the door. It didn't budge, but she felt a burst of satisfaction when she noted the small dent her heel had left in its previously pristine surface.

Jack turned back to the wheeled cart. Curiosity forced her to gingerly lift the cover to see what was underneath. She was assaulted by the spicy aroma of spaghetti and glimpsed pale noodles and rich red sauce before she slammed the cover back down on the plate. Her stomach growled in protest as she stepped away, but she pressed her fist into it and deliberately willed the rumbling to stop. It had been a while, but she had been hungry before, frequently in fact, when she was on her own. She knew she could handle a little hunger.

"I don't want your damned food!" she shouted to the empty room assuming that they would have some sort of surveillance system to monitor her. "I. Want. Some. Fucking. ANSWERS!"

She gave the cart an angry shove that sent it careening into a wall. The lid on the plate was dislodged and the tall glass of tea sloshed part of its contents onto the white napkin that was neatly folded beside the plate. Jack grinned fiercely in satisfaction at the minor disarray. The urge to create more destruction hit her and she eyed the now exposed plate of tomato-clad noodles. _I wonder if hospital white goes well with Italian red,_ she thought and felt her smile stretch wider as she stepped toward the plate. She had picked it up and was preparing to hurl it toward the wall, which bore the floral prints, when she heard the click of the door opening. She turned with vicious glee, expecting to see the timid orderly step through the entry and cocked her arm back to give him a just reward for not answering her questions.

To her surprise, the person, who glided through the door, was not the orderly, but rather an elegant older woman in a glittery gown that looked out of place in this institutional setting. Jack was unable to stop the forward momentum of her throw and the plate of food went hurtling through the air toward this new individual. Before the plate reached her, the woman seemed to shimmer into nothingness and flow to the side allowing the missile to impact the wall beside the door. The plate shattered with the force of the collision. Shards of ceramic along with the noodles and sauce cascaded to the floor leaving a long red smear.

"Who the hell are you?" Jack snapped, glaring at the new intruder.

"My name is Aereon. I am one of your… hosts," the woman said as she looked at Jack with a bemused expression. She glanced back at the splattered food, and then quirked an eyebrow at Jack. "I take it you don't like Italian food. Is there something else you would prefer?"

"Like I said, I'm not hungry," Jack bit out. "I just want to know what the hell is going on here."

She glowered at Aereon waiting for her response and taking the opportunity to really study the woman. She had long silvery hair that draped artfully over her shoulders and her form seemed to waver intermittently so that Jack occasionally caught glimpses of the wall behind her. The edges of her gown's sleeves fluttered as though in a gentle breeze even though the air in the room was completely still. The entire effect was rather disconcerting and Jack found herself blinking frequently as her eyes tried to focus on the constantly fluctuating form.

"What is going on?" the woman repeated. Her voice was musical and seemed oddly familiar to Jack, although she had never met the woman before. "Well, my dear, you have information that we require. That is why we had you brought to us."

"Who the fuck is 'we'?"

"Ah… that I cannot tell you. Normally, I would not have introduced myself either. However, we felt that perhaps, after all you have been through, you would be more comfortable with a face-to-face meeting. Believe me, Jack, we would like for this whole process to go smoothly."

"You want things to go 'smoothly'?" Jack asked incredulously. The woman's audacity and cool confidence touched a raw nerve in Jack. Her voice rose as she spoke until she was once again shouting. "You send a bunch of slimy mercs to murder my Robby and grab me from my home, and you, fucking, want things to go 'smoothly'! Look, lady, I don't know your definition of 'smooth', but where I come from, this is about as far from it as you can fucking get!"

Jack's outburst had little affect on Aereon. Other than her lips pressing together slightly, she did not change her expression. "Hmm…yes, the boy. That was unintended, both by us and by the team who retrieved you. It was truly unfortunate."

Jack's breath came in short gasps as rage and grief swelled inside her. Tears threatened once more, but she ground her teeth and deliberately blinked them away. She forced her grief back and instead focused on the anger. "I-it was 'unintended' and 'unfortunate'. We're talking about his _life_ here! About _my_ life! You callous bitch! I wouldn't tell you the time of day!"

Jack grabbed the glass of tea and threw it at Aereon. It missed as she once again phased to the side. Jack then hurled the packet of silverware, which also missed. She shrieked in fury at the impotence of her attempts, then her recent martial arts training kicked in and she rushed at the woman who was still regarding her with a calm, measuring gaze.

Before Jack could reach her, the door opened and a pair of large men dressed in hospital scrubs stepped through. They grabbed Jack and quickly wrestled her into submission, although not without taking a couple of hits themselves. The brief altercation ended with Jack pinned face first to the floor by the knee of one of the men. He held her hands behind her back at an awkward angle. She attempted to kick at him, but he pulled upward on her arms in warning. The motion caused pain to shoot through her shoulders and down her back, making her gasp involuntarily. Because she had little doubt that the behemoth could rip her arms out of their sockets if she continued to struggle, she subsided and lay still on the floor with her face turned away from the insubstantial bitch she had tried to attack.

From her position, she could see the second orderly and was pleased to note that he was awkwardly wrapping a handkerchief around his hand, which was dripping blood. She felt a vicious smile stretch her face and thought: _That'll teach you to put your hand over my mouth, asshole!_

"Pity," Aereon's voice floated to Jack and she finally wrested her head to look at the woman. "I had truly hoped that you would choose the easier path and simply tell us what we need to know."

"Not on your life."

"Well, then I suppose we will be treading the difficult path." Aereon's eyes focused above and behind Jack. "Take her to the chamber. We'll begin the procedure shortly."

"I don't give a fuck what you do to me! I… Won't… Talk!" Jack snapped at her back as she flowed toward the door.

She paused and looked back at Jack with an enigmatic smile. "Oh, I believe you will, my dear. You will tell us everything. And you can resist all you want, the outcome will be the same."

She exited and a third goon entered with a wheeled chair that had restraints similar to the ones Toombs had used on his ship. She attempted to struggle, but the three men were able to strap her in with a minimum of effort. Finally, one of them placed a dark colored bag over her head so that she could not see anything as they wheeled her from the room.

"I'll scream," she threatened.

"Go for it, kid. Scream your throat out. It won't do you a damn bit of good in this place," one of the men assured her ominously. He then laughed and continued pushing her chair, leaving her to wonder just what they had in store for her.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

Because her eyes were covered, Jack's journey through the labyrinthine halls of the complex seemed to take an exceedingly long time, but actually, it probably took only a few moments. Eventually, Jack felt the chair come to a stop and the goon swiveled the chair around.

Her ears tingled as she tried to discern as much about her environment as possible simply by listening. She heard her keeper step from behind her, and then she felt herself moving backward until the chair stopped with an audible click against a solid object.

Jack could hear others moving around her and one of them finally removed the cover from her face. The room in which she found herself had brushed metal plates on the lower part of the walls while the upper walls were stark white tiles. Several technicians moved around, busily working with some sort of medical-looking equipment that was unfamiliar to Jack. Directly in front of her, through a long window, she could see several people illuminated by the glow of computer screens. When she craned her head around to look behind her she caught a glimpse of a table with several large pieces of machinery directed at it. Overall, the entire scene was like something out of a bad horror vid, except that no vid ever conveyed the ominous sense of dread that welled up in her as she surveyed her current surroundings.

The flickering woman, Aereon, had laid the seeds of trepidation when she spoke of a "procedure". Those seeds were now sprouting into outright fear as Jack realized that these people would likely go to whatever lengths were necessary to extract the information they wanted from her. Her mind swam with indecision and not a rising panic.

_Should I just tell them what they want to know? How can I sell out Riddick? Oh, God. What would Riddick do?_

Jack took a few deep breaths and felt her anger returning. It helped block out the fear so she latched onto it and fed it. As her anger grew, she made a decision. _Come on, Jack. You know what he'd do. He'd fight 'em. To the bitter end if necessary. And so will I! These bastards ain't gettin' a voluntary word out of me._ She set her jaw and fixed her eyes forward while the technicians continued to scuttle around her.

After a few moments, one of the technicians pressed a button on the chair in which Jack was bound, and she heard motors whir to life inside of it. The chair shifted with her still in it until it formed a stretcher with her on top. Jack tried to slip free as the thing transformed, but her restraints remained snug. When it was complete, a pair of techs unclipped the top from the wheeled base and slid it backwards onto the exam table, which Jack had spotted the array of medical equipment over.

Jack kept her jaw set, determined not to let her fear get the best of her. She focused on breathing, using the meditation techniques she had learned in her martial arts classes. The technicians continued working around her. None of the techs acknowledged her directly, as if she were an inanimate object. Jack felt the irritation rising in her and worked on feeding it. If she got angry enough, she could endure whatever they had in store for her. It was fear that made her weak.

One of the techs glued electrodes to Jack's head and chest. An array of monitors came to life as the sensors fed Jack's vital information to the attached computers. There was a prick of pain in her arm as a second tech inserted an IV and then efficiently taped it to her arm.

Aereon drifted into Jack's field of vision just as Jack had worked up a good steam. She glared at the insubstantial witch but otherwise did not acknowledge her presence. Aereon's face bore an enigmatic neutral expression as she regarded Jack.

"I wanted to give you one last opportunity to cooperate, my dear," she said. "You must realize now that we will find out what we want to know. It would be so much easier if you would just tell us what you know about Riddick and where we can find him. Then we can send you back to your life…"

At Aereon's mention of her life, Rob's face swam to the top of her mind and Jack blinked away tears. She swallowed impulsively around the lump that formed in her throat. She glanced around the room and then gritted her teeth and glared at the woman standing beside her. From deep inside her, she called on all her reserves of strength to help her through this ordeal. She imagined Riddick standing beside her to bolster her resolve. Then she smiled coldly at Aereon: "No fucking way, bitch. You aren't getting shit from me!"

Aereon stepped back and a tech injected something into Jack's IV. She began to feel detached, floating away from the reality of the hard table and medical equipment. Her vision swam and went grey as the substance made its way through her body. Jack's mind wandered unbidden over the events of the past few days, but she felt detached from them as they played out in front of her. With effort, she pushed the thoughts away and once again focused on her breathing.

_What the hell did they give me?_ she wondered. She wasn't sure whether she had spoken aloud or if it was simply a thought. _Damn, gotta be strong. Gotta focus! Whatever that shit was, they must figure it'll weaken me enough to get me to talk. Can't do that. What would Riddick do? Be strong, that's what. Gotta be strong for Riddick._

Jack breathed deeply trying to focus and clear her brain, but she felt weak. Tears of frustration threatened when the fog refused to clear from her mind. A wash of intense loneliness swept through her. She hadn't felt that particular emotion in a long time. Not since, she had come to terms with Riddick leaving and made a life for herself in New Mecca.

From out of the grey fog, she heard a familiar melodic voice call to her: "Jack."

"What?"

"Jack, I need you to remember. Remember Riddick, my dear. All the details."

Jack searched in the fog for the source of the voice, but she couldn't find it. She knew it had to be Aereon, but she couldn't seem to work up the anger she had felt toward the woman earlier. All she felt was the lost loneliness floating in the grey void.

"Come on, Jack. Think of Riddick. Remember him. Remember the time you were with him. Let those memories come. _See_ them in your mind."

"No, I can't. Gotta be strong," Jack whispered into the mist. She turned and began walking in the fog as it swirled around her. Vague shapes moved in the distance just beyond her range of vision, robbing her of her ability to determine what they were. They served to emphasize the sensation of being misplaced and alone.

"It's okay, Jack. Just relax and remember. Remember Riddick. Let your mind go back to that time. Everything will be fine if you just remember."

Jack didn't answer this time, but she began to run, trying to get away from the voice and its siren song urging her to give in. Jack tripped and fell to her knees as a sob escaped her throat. It would be so easy to just give in to Aereon's urging. Against her will, an image of Riddick came to mind. It was from when they were on the shuttle after escaping Chillingsworth: Riddick leaning back in the pilot's chair grinning at her, goggles pushed up on his forehead with shadows playing over his face.

Jack felt a touch on her shoulder and looked up. Riddick was crouched beside her, looking just as he had in her memory from the shuttle. He ran his hand over her head and then rested it against her cheek as his thumb brushed at the tears that had mutinously leaked from her eyes. "Y'okay, kid?" he asked just as he had then. Jack felt the urge to grab hold of him and not let go, to let him fill the loneliness of the gray void.

"Yes, Jack. That's it. Remember…"

"NO!" she screamed and jerked back, knotting her fists against her temples. "You're NOT real!" Riddick vanished in a puff of dark mist that was quickly absorbed back into unending grayness of the void.

"You _will_ remember, Jack. Sooner or later, you will remember and you will tell us. Come, my dear, let it be sooner. Just relax into it and everything will be all right."

_No, everything won't be all right. Robby is gone and there's no changing that._

The memory of Rob in the street after he was shot leapt to her mind. Just as the memory surfaced, Rob appeared out of the mist. His abdomen was covered in sticky red, which also coated his hands. He glanced down at them and then looked back at her. He took a step toward her. An expression of pain distorted his features and he gasped, "Jack…"

"NO!" Jack screamed and shut her eyes against this newest illusion., "Rob's not here either," she forcefully told herself. "It's just your mind, Jack. It's the drugs. You gotta resist. Be strong."

Jack called to mind the drainpipe in which she had spent so much time after her arrival on New Mecca. She imagined herself blocking off the entrance and putting up a wall behind her so that no one could reach her or hurt her. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the pipe just as she had imagined. She leaned back against the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Come now, Jack. That is no way to be. There is no reason for you to hide from us. We mean you no harm. We want to be your friends. We want to help you."

From her spot in the pipe, the voice was harder to hear as though it couldn't carry through the barriers she had erected. To occupy her mind, so that her thoughts did not drift to Riddick or Rob, she began going over the preflight checklist for faster-than-light spacecraft. She had memorized the list for one of her classes and it was long and boringly detailed. She forced her mind to focus only on the list.

"Jack, stop that!" the voice commanded from very far away now. "You must think of Riddick."

_Step Five. Initialize the communications system. Verify internal and external communications. Step Six. Run the Grav generator test. The generator should be able to create a field differential running between .5 to 100 delta Gs. Step Seven. Test the atmospheric regulators. The rebreather coils should indicate normal atmospheric pressure levels for oxygen, nitrogen and argon. Other gases should appear in only trace quantities with no generation of CO or other known toxins..._

"What the hell is this? Some sort of checklist?" a new voice spoke in obvious irritation. This one was much deeper than the song of Aereon's speech. As the words filtered to her, she realized that they were capturing her thoughts somehow. She quashed the spike of fear that this new insight caused in her and focused more resolutely on the checklist.

"She's resisting us. I expected her to do so. Do not worry. We've only just begun," Aereon replied. To the tech, she commanded: "Up the dosage."

Jack felt a tingle begin in her arm and start to spread through her body and she was suddenly cold. She glanced at the walls of her sanctuary and noticed tiny cracks beginning to spread just as the tingle spread. She had finished the checklist so she started running through the lists of calculus formulas she had memorized, stepping through each proof in minute detail.

"Math, now?" the deep voice rumbled.

"Quiet!" Aereon commanded and then continued, speaking to Jack. "Relax, my dear. You need to remember for us. You need to think of Riddick and the times you were together. Remember the Hunter-Gratzner. Remember what happened."

Jack kept focusing on lesson after lesson from school, forcing her mind onto the activity to avoid giving in to the memories that threatened to bubble up in response to Aereon's urging. Several times, she felt the tingle and wash of cold as she was given ever more of the drug.

The walls of her hole now had large cracks running through them and she could see specks of light peeking through several chinks. The voices were also closer as though they were immediately on the other side of the wall and she was having a much harder time focusing on the random information she called up.

"What is with this kid?" the deep voice asked some time later. "She's had enough to take out someone twice her size."

"I don't know why you're surprised," Aereon said to him. "You've read the dossier and seen her DNA scans. This sort of metabolism is typical of her heritage."

"But she's only one quarter. I expected some extra resistance, but this is incredible. I never anticipated that she would be able to hold out this long."

Jack felt the tingle again, stronger than before and the walls around her began to crumble. No, no, no… Strong... Gotta resist.

"Furyan genes are very dominant, even after several generations. They were designed to be- Wait! Look, I think we are finally making some progress.

"That's it, Jack. Let go. Open your mind and let us see what you know. Show us Riddick."

Tears streamed down Jack's face as her walls collapsed and the memories flooded her mind. The grey void transformed into a rushing replay of the events, starting with the crash of the Hunter-Gratzner. Every moment was conjured in excruciating detail and she wept openly as she watched her thirteen-year-old self go through the terror of the planet and the ordeal with Chillingsworth. She cried for the friends she had lost and the horrors she had seen. Then her heart wrenched as she found herself taken to the shuttle after the escape from the Kubla Khan. She watched as Riddick tucked her into the cryo-tube and eventually stood and closed the lid with a resounding click.

As the lid closed, Jack collapsed and everything went blissfully black.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this posted. You know... life, etc. At any rate, I hope you enjoyed.

Whitelite: Yeah, my view of Aereon isn't exactly sweetness and light. I've always felt that the most evil-y of evils is the evil that can pretend to be good: priests, public officials, etc. I needed a villain and Aereon seemed a good choice from that perspective. She just seemed a bit dodgy to me in CoR. Sorry for the keep reading bit. Mainly I don't wanna reveal anything that will spoil what surprises I have in store in future chaps, but be assured that I will include explanations for all my deviations from canon.

Random comment: The FF.N editor is thoroughly frustrating. It strips out all my asterisks, even when they BELONG there. Grrrr...


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

Imam sat in the courtroom behind the defense attorney. The fact that he was here at all still seemed a little unreal. He allowed his mind to drift back to the fateful night when his world was turned on its edge.

* * *

The chiming of the door was insistent, drawing Imam and Lajjun out of a deep sleep. Imam turned on the small lamp beside their bed, and consulted the face of the chrono that shared the table with the lamp. The face indicated that it was 0200. 

"Who could that be at this time of night, Abu?"

"I do not know, my dear," Imam said with a shake of his head as he rose from the bed and drew on his dressing robe. At that moment, the incessant chiming awakened Ziza and they both heard her cry out. "I will find out who is calling upon us. You go look in on Ziza," he told her and then left their room.

When he reached the first floor, Imam pulled his robe more tightly around him and snugged the belt. He then opened the door with a puzzled expression. His puzzlement increased as he realized there were two uniformed deputy constables on his doorstep.

"May I help you, gentlemen?" he asked with a polite bow.

"Professor al-Walid, we apologize for disturbing you at this late hour. I am Officer Fasad and this is Officer Ling," one of the men said as they returned his bow. "You are the guardian of Jacqueline Audrey Page?"

"Yes, I am. She is my adopted daughter," he confirmed and then fear clenched around his heart. "Oh, no… She is not injured, is she? She is not…?"

"No, sir. We do not believe she has come to any harm," Fasad reassured him.

Relief flooded Imam but confusion quickly followed. His brow furrowed and he looked from one man to the other as he asked, "If no harm as befallen the child, what _has_ brought you here?"

"Sir, there has been a shooting," the second officer spoke up.

"A shooting. You said she was not…"

"We do not believe that Miss Page was injured; however, we fear she was involved. We need to speak to her. We thought perhaps she might have come here."

"I have not seen her since last weekend."

"Would you allow us the opportunity to check her room, sir? We need to confirm that she hasn't visited here without your knowledge," Ling requested politely. However, the firm tone of his voice told Imam that the request was made out of courtesy and that they would force the investigation if necessary.

"Of course," he acknowledged and stepped back. He motioned them through the door with another small bow. As they entered, Imam spoke again, "Please, gentlemen. If Jack was not injured, who was? Why do you believe she was involved?"

"One of her classmates was killed, sir, along with two other men whom we are working to identify. We have reliable information that she was at the scene when the incident occurred and that she may have been the shooter. Unfortunately, I cannot say more about the investigation."

Imam stepped back in shock and sank into a chair in the entry hall. He glanced up to the second floor of the house where Lajjun stood with Ziza cradled against her. He could tell by her expression that she had overheard the officer's words. He wrenched his eyes from his family back to where the officers stood politely waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

"Who died?"

"Robert Harris," Fasad said after consulting a small pad. "We are told that he was a close friend of your daughter's."

Imam slumped into the chair as the weight of the officer's words hit him. He heard a gasp from above and looked up to where Lajjun had pressed her hand against her lips. Tears glittered brightly in her eyes and she clasped Ziza even more snuggly. The little girl shifted with a small whimper and then settled once more in her mother's arms.

Officer Ling cleared his throat and Imam shifted his gaze back to the two men. "Forgive us, sir, but we must continue our investigation."

Imam took a deep breath and swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. He stood and motioned to the stairs, "Of course, gentlemen. I will be happy to show you Jack's room."

* * *

After the officers left, Imam began making phone calls to try to obtain additional information about what was going on. The constabulary had found a duffle with Jack's identification on a commercial street not far from her school campus at the site of the brutal killing. Reliable witnesses placed Jack at the scene at the time of the shooting. One of them, a waitress from a nearby pub, had seen her shoot the final victim after hearing the shots that had apparently killed Rob and the first unidentified man. 

The constables were still compiling evidence, but preliminary indications were that Jack's fingerprints were the only ones found on a gun left at the crime scene. Except for a stun phaser, the constables found no other weapons on any of the victims. Worst of all, Jack was missing. The waitress, who had witnessed the final shooting, had gone to call the authorities and by the time, she returned to the window, there was no sign of Jack.

When combined with the fact that Jack was still missing, the evidence and witness statements painted a grim picture. The authorities quickly charged Jack with three counts of murder. Regardless, Imam knew that Jack could not have committed the crimes of which she was accused. He tried to explain this to Rob's father, but Councilman Harris was consumed by his own grief and would not listen. In fact, the Councilman was the reason the trial moved ahead so quickly.

Normally, in a case where the accused could not be located there was a waiting period of at least six months before invoking a trial in absentia. However, this grace period was not a formal law and Harris had used all his considerable political influence to move up the trial date. A mere six weeks after Rob's death and Jack's disappearance, she was placed on trial for the triple murder of Rob and two men.

Imam immediately hired someone to represent Jack, but once again, Councilman Harris brought his power to bear. Many of the top barristers refused the case outright and Imam turned to Aron Denin, a young man with much more enthusiasm than experience. Nevertheless, Denin presented an excellent case and seemed be winning the tribunal over when the prosecutor played the Riddick card.

Fingerprint analysis on the other two men identified them as a pair of mercs. Once the information about the Hunter-Gratzner crash was introduced, the prosecution painted a picture of Jack as a disturbed teen who was obsessed with Riddick following her contact with him after the crash. The prosecutor put forth the theory that Jack had slain the two mercs because they were searching for Riddick. A scrapbook that the constables had found in Jack's room served to reinforce the obsession claims when the prosecution presented it as evidence. In the book, she had collected articles and bits of information about Riddick's life many of which were details of his various crimes including the murder of numerous mercs who had attempted to apprehend him.

Briefly, the prosecutor attempted to force Imam onto the stand to testify regarding the events following the crash. Imam was torn over what to say that would both save Jack and allow him to protect the secret of Riddick's location. When he was completely honest with himself, he also had to admit that he held a certain amount of fear for his family. What sort of vengeance might Riddick claim if he ever found that Imam had revealed the planet on which Riddick had chosen to sequester himself? Would the fact that he made the revelation to save Jack make any difference? They were questions that chilled Imam's heart and left him sleepless the night before he was due to testify.

On the morning that Imam was scheduled to take the stand, the prosecutor received a visit from a strange, heavily robed figure. Imam had arrived at the court early, so he saw the entire meeting from a distance and was impressed with the elegant grace with which the small-framed person moved. After the visit, the prosecutor mysteriously withdrew Imam from the witness list.

* * *

The sharp crack of the Judge's gavel pulled Imam back to the present. The magistrate announced, "Since both sides have presented their arguments, we will recess to give the tribunal time to review the evidence. A message will be broadcast when they have reached a verdict." 

With that, the members of the tribunal and the magistrate adjourned to their chambers and the audience began filtering out of the courtroom. Imam waited until Aron Denin stepped back to him. The young attorney looked weary and a little sad as he extended his hand to Imam and said, "Well, Professor. I have done all that I can for her in her absence. If only she had been found to provide her own side of the story…"

"I am sure you have done your best, my son," Imam reassured the young man as he clasped his hand. "It is now in the hands of Allah. May his will be done."

Aron nodded and then followed the crowd of onlookers out of the courtroom. Imam looked around the now mostly empty room once more before he too exited. He made his way through the building to a bank of public comm terminals and then waited for one to become available so that he could contact Lajjun with the news that the tribunal had reached the case review stage.

"I am coming to you, Abu," she told him firmly and then held up her hand before he could protest. "I love Jack, too. I want to be there for her sake and for yours, my love."

Imam nodded mutely as tears prickled his eyes.

"It will not take me long. I have already taken Ziza to my sister's house for the afternoon," Lajjun continued and then she ended the call.

Imam met his wife in front of the court building half an hour after their call. She looked at his face and without speaking, embraced him. Imam held her tightly for a moment and then released her. She clasped his arm as they walked into the building. They found seats inside and settled in to wait for the court to reconvene.

Imam felt Lajjun press something into his hand. When he looked down, he discovered that he held a set of prayer beads: the ones from the crash and his subsequent flight with Jack and Riddick. He looked from the beads up to Lajjun's face as tears blurred his vision. Lajjun wrapped her hands around his and then leaned against him. Imam felt soothed by her presence and was suddenly very grateful that she had insisted on coming to the court.

They only had to wait for another half hour before the court PA system buzzed with the announcement that the tribunal had reached a verdict. Imam felt both relief that they had not been forced to wait too long and dread that the short recess might mean the worst. They stood and made their way into the courtroom and to the row of seats reserved for the family of the accused. Aron Denin was already in place when they took their seats. His face was schooled into a carefully neutral expression as he nodded to them and then turned back to face the magistrate's desk.

After a few moments, the magistrate and the tribunal returned from their chambers and resumed their customary positions. The magistrate rapped his gavel again and a deep silence fell over the room as the head of the tribunal rose and read the verdict.

* * *

Jack lay in her bed in the bland room where she had originally awakened. If she turned her head slightly, she could just make out the faint pinkish smear on the wall from where she had thrown her food at Aereon. Normally, she would have rejoiced at the lasting reminder of her defiance, but she could no longer muster the energy for defiance or joy. She simply felt drained… _I'm like an orange half that's had all the juice squashed out of it._

She had lost track of time and lost count of the number of sessions of drugged questioning she had endured. Her captors seemed to be searching for information and were determined to pull it from her. Unfortunately, Jack couldn't tell them what they wanted to know, a fact that she repeated multiple times to no avail.

Jack had fought them as best she could, but eventually, the drugs and repetition took their toll. The techs only needed to give her a very mild dose of the drug before Aereon's gentle voice coaxed the flood of memories from her. The combination of the drugs and the repeated floods of old and painful memories had worn her down until she felt weaker than she had ever felt before. She was also plagued by a sense of failure and loss over her inability to protect what she knew about Riddick.

Jack heard the door open and then close as though someone had entered. She did not hear anyone and did not have the will to turn her head to see who it was. She kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, hoping that the orderlies had not come to retrieve her for another questioning session.

A moment later, Aereon floated into Jack's field of vision on the right side of her bed. She looked down at Jack with her enigmatic smile. "How are you feeling today, Jack?"

She paused as though waiting for Jack to answer. Jack felt so drained that she could not even summon her normal sense of ire toward the woman and so just blinked at her.

When no other response was forthcoming, Aereon continued in the same pleasant tone. "I have some news for you; we have finished our testing sessions. Our technicians tell me that they have learned all they can from you. It's time for you to leave us."

These words reached through the fog of fatigue and loss. Jack felt relief mingled with grief flood through her as images of home bombarded her mind. They were finally letting her go; she could return to her family so that she could finally begin to truly grieve for Rob. She blinked rapidly as tears leaked from her eyes and then sighed a single word: "Home."

Aereon's face changed to an expression of pity as Jack spoke. "Oh, no, my dear. I am afraid I have misled you. We cannot allow you to return home; you are much too valuable to us for that. You may not realize it, but you are very special. A person with Furyan blood is a truly rare find..."

She continued but Jack was lost in the pain that swept through her as Aereon's statement registered in her mind. There was a rushing sound in her ears. She felt dizzy and almost fainted.

_No, I'm not gonna give this bitch the satisfaction,_ she thought with some of her former defiance returning at last. She forced herself to breathe deeply and ground her teeth as she brought herself back to the present and focused on what Aereon was saying.

"…conviction requires you to be remanded to the prison system."

"Conviction? What?" Jack asked in confusion. _What conviction? What the hell is this woman talking about?_

Aereon did not answer her and instead motioned with her hand. The door opened and closed once more and she heard someone enter. Jack shifted her eyes in the direction of the footsteps and her confusion deepened when she recognized the man who had entered.

Toombs crossed the room approaching the left side of her bed. He had a grim expression and Jack got the feeling that he was not happy about being there.

_Not exactly jumping for joy myself, asshole,_ Jack thought as she glared at him. _I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you._

Jack looked at Aereon again. Her smile had returned and she addressed the man. "Congratulations on your apprehension, Mr. Toombs. The authorities have classified young Jack as a rather dangerous individual. My understanding is that you will receive a handsome paycheck upon delivery of her to the Ursa Luna prison."

Jack shifted her gaze back to Toombs. He was glaring at Aereon, and Jack realized that the woman had been baiting him. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Haven't you heard? It seems the Helion Prime High Court has convicted Jack in absentia for the triple murder of Robert Harris, Michael Jones, and Jorge Sanchez. The court placed an order for apprehension onto the net. When we saw it, we felt it was our duty to surrender her to you since you have experience in dealing with dangerous criminals."

"No…" Jack whispered as the words sank in.

Toombs expression quickly changed to one of shock and then outright anger as he snarled at Aereon, "Get someone else for your 'errand'. I'm not your fucking delivery boy! And I don't want any part of this bullshit."

"You will do as you are told," Aereon said quietly with an edge of steel in her voice. Jack looked rapidly from one to the other. Toombs glared menacingly at Aereon. Aereon's expression was serene but her eyes held a threat that sent frissons of fear through Jack. For a moment, she was certain that Toombs was going to defy Aereon. She dared hope that perhaps he might even help her if he got angry enough, but then the woman added, "That is if you value your ship!"

Jack wasn't sure what the exchange was about, but she knew with certainty that she had lost any chance at aid from the merc when he glanced down at her. She read the pity and regret in his face before he carefully arranged his expression to one of bland neutrality.

"I guess you have your delivery boy," he said flatly. Then he caught and held Aereon's gaze for a moment. "But this ain't over."

Aereon pressed her lips together and gave a minute nod. Then she swept to the door and left without another word.

* * *

A/N: I'm so pleased to hear that everyone enjoyed Chapter 16. It's one of my favorites. Thank you all for your kind words. I can't tell you how much each new comment brightens my day.

White lite: Thank you SO much for your wonderful feedback. You have simply blown me away! And I don't think "powerful" is a bad word at all. In fact, I'm totally flattered. And did I mention, blown away?

FitMama and pashtess: glad you are enjoying my evil Aereon. I truly had a lot of fun writing her.

Riddick's Sita: Riddick appears in several upcoming chapters and should become a significant presence starting in Ch 25 (if things go as planned, I haven't yet written CH 25, so I can't say for sure, but that's what I'd estimate).


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Toombs stared down at the slight girl in the bed. She had lost weight in the six weeks since he had brought her here.

_What the hell did they do to this poor kid?_ he wondered. She seemed worn down, a mere shadow of the girl he had retrieved from New Mecca. Yet, she still held defiance in her haunted eyes as she returned his gaze.

As he observed her, he felt a wash of complex emotions: guilt, pity, regret, remorse, admiration for her strength... and irritation that he was feeling the other emotions. Irritation was the easiest to deal with, so Toombs latched on to that one.

"Damn, kid, you're as skinny as a Rhenarian skeletal-cat and you look too weak to sit up. How the fuck does that bitch expect me to get you out of here? Carry you?" he asked as he stepped back and crossed his arms.

The girl struggled into a sitting position and her eyes flashed with green fire as she glared back at him. "I'll walk. Thank you," she grated out then gestured at the pajamas she was wearing. "Just get me some real clothes."

He could tell that even that small action had taken a fair amount out of her. Toombs felt the focus of his irritation shift from the girl to her captors and his admiration grew with her refusal to back down. He stalked over to the mirror wall of her room and knocked on the glass. "Hey, you assholes wanna get the girl some clothes? I can't haul a prisoner around in a pair of fucking pajamas!"

He turned and winked conspiratorially at her. This prompted a look of confusion from her that almost made him laugh aloud. Instead, he grinned and gave her another wink, while keeping his back to the observation glass. With a grim thoughtful expression, she dropped her eyes to her hands, which were clasped in her lap.

_Gotcha, kid! And just when you thought you had me figured out, huh?_ he thought as he swaggered back toward her. He composed his expression to one of mildly irritated boredom and leaned casually against the foot of her bed to wait.

Toombs used the wait time to ponder his options for the girl. _I could let her go, but she has a price on her head big enough to ensure that someone else'll pick her up. 'Cept most merc ain't quite as nice as me, she'd probably end up... well it woudn't be pretty. _

_I reckon I could offer her a job. She's got a lot of spunk and she would make a good addition to the crew. Right, and what do you think your current employers response would be to that little idea? Take the ship, of course, but probably sell me up the river to the authorities. And where does that leave me. Yup, fugitive as well, not a pleasant thought. _

_All that leaves is delivering her to Ursa Luna like the asked. That's right, Toombs the delivery boy._ The thought rankled and by the time the door to the room slid open to admit the orderly delivering the girl's clothes, his irritation was no longer simply an act for the benefit of Aereon's flunkies. And it was much more than mild.

"About fucking time!" he snarled and advanced on the hapless orderly. The small, thin youth cowered away from Toombs, visibly shaking as he held out the neatly folded clothes. Toombs glared down at him for a moment before reaching to take the stack. The boy seemed to shrink even more as Toombs loomed over him. As soon as he was relieved of his burden, he scurried from the room, slamming the door in his eagerness to escape.

Toombs turned to find Jack studying him intently. He stalked back across the room and tossed the clothes on the foot of her bed. "Get dressed, kid. We're outta here in five minutes. Although, you ain't gonna like where we're going."

"Anything is better than this place. Even prison," she said firmly. Jack caught and held his gaze for a moment. Her expression changed to one of wry humor and she added: "Hell, even a merc ship."

"Everybody thinks they're a fucking comedian," he complained as he folded his arms again and stepped back. He was actually pleased that she had retained her sense of humor in the face of whatever Aereon and company had inflicted upon her. The kid's attitude even in her weakened condition was a testament to her resilience. She was obviously a survivor, but he wondered if that would be enough given what life seemed intent on throwing at her.

* * *

Jack pondered all that she had discovered in the past few moments. The emotion, which gripped her at the thought of going to prison for Rob's murder, was too much for her to bear right then. Jack firmly put the thought from her mind and focused on the present. There would be time later to deal with the emotional upheaval. For now, she knew that she'd spoken truthfully when she told Toombs that anywhere was better than Aereon's facility. At least in prison, she wouldn't be forced to relive the worst moments of her life over and over again. The sharp edges of the painful memories might once again dull and allow her to move forward. 

_Oh, well. Guess the first step is to get dressed,_ Jack thought resolutely. She pulled the stack of clothes closer to her and dug through them: cargo pants, a t-shirt and a bulky sweatshirt. It was just the sort of outfit she normally wore. _Guess they extracted my clothing preferences along with everything else._ She grimaced at the pile of cloth, which suddenly felt... unclean.

_Oh well, not like I've got a lot of choice in the matter. And at least this means, I really am getting out of here,_ she reflected as she plucked the undergarments from the heap. Jack looked at Toombs who was now leaning against the wall beside the mirror, watching her. She noted that he had chosen the one spot in the room where the observers on the other side of the glass could not watch him. She held up the bra and panties and then raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to leave the room so that she could dress. When he showed no intention of doing so, she rolled her eyes and snapped: "A little privacy, please?"

Toombs smirked at her and nodded toward the window. "Privacy ain't exactly something you're gonna get around here, kid."

"Yes, but I can't see them watching me, so I can pretend they aren't there. Besides, considering the shit they've done to me, a little skin won't make a difference," she spoke slowly as though explaining to a child or someone stupid. "You on the other hand are a strange man who is right here in front of me."

He still showed no intention of leaving and his grin widened at her growing irritation as she made shooing motions with her hands. Finally, Jack dropped the clothes and threw up her hands in exasperation. "Oh all right, if you won't leave, at least fucking turn around... And no peeking in the mirror either!"

He gave a strangled snort of repressed laughter but complied, turning to face the wall and deliberately averting his eyes from the large reflective expanse. Jack watched him for a moment and then quickly slipped out of the pajamas and into the new clothes.

The verbal sparring with Toombs had, amazingly, brought back some of her former vitality. Jack felt more mentally alert than she had in many days, but she still felt very physically weak. Her muscle tone had decreased dramatically in the weeks she had been there due to lack of activity. The simple act of dressing left Jack feeling incredibly tired. She leaned heavily against the bed. A wave of dizziness hit her and Jack fisted her hands in the bedclothes to avoid collapsing to the floor. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she waited for the disorientation to pass.

Distantly, Jack heard Toombs cross the room. She didn't register what he was doing until he grasped her shoulders and pulled her upright. Jack cursed her lack of coordination and balance. She hadn't realized she was drifting until he adjusted her position.

"You aren't gonna pass out on me are you? Cause I really don't want to have to carry your ass."

Intending to make a cutting retort, Jack opened her eyes and glared at him. She was taken aback by the concern she momentarily read in his face, before his expression returned to what she was coming to think of as his normal arrogant smirk. She took a deep breath and called upon her deepest reserves of determination to force the room to stop spinning. Once her equilibrium returned, Jack shrugged Toombs's hands off her shoulders. "I'll be fine," she answered quietly.

Toombs stepped away from her and she pushed herself off the edge of the bed. She swayed a bit, but then righted herself and stood firm. He regarded her with narrowed eyes. Then, apparently satisfied with what he saw, he gave a sharp nod and gestured toward the door. Jack began walking toward it with slow deliberate steps.

She felt twinges from various parts of her body as her long-unused muscles complained at the activity. Jack had been an active person her entire life and the martial arts training she had been taking had helped her increase her tone and agility. As she struggled to walk, she realized just how much the forced bed rest, combined with the interrogation drugs, had cost her. She gritted her teeth against the ache that was developing in her lower back and squared her shoulders. All the while, she silently cursed Aereon. _You're gonna pay for everything, you bitch. I promise._

* * *

Toombs guided the girl through the complex, and his admiration for her pluck grew as they made their way slowly through the featureless corridors. She was in obvious pain, but she refused to give in or ask for help. 

At one point, she stumbled and almost fell. However, when he moved forward to support her, she glared at him and shrugged off his assistance. She then pulled herself upright using the wall and continued shuffling along in the direction he indicated.

It occurred to Toombs that her attitude was not unlike what he would expect from either Mare or Kyra in a similar situation. _I'm plagued by damned stubborn women. And this one's my damned prisoner. I shouldn't have to put up with this shit,_ he grumbled to himself.

Although it would have been quicker to carry her to the waiting hover-car, he did not move to assist her. For a reason he couldn't completely explain to himself, he wanted to leave Jack her pride in her departure from the facility. He decided not to examine the reason too closely because it would likely cause the emotions he had felt earlier to resurface. _Got no desire to go down that path._

Eventually, they reached the garage. The walk, which would normally have taken Toombs no more than five minutes even given the vast size of the building, had taken almost half an hour. The girl was pale and breathing heavily as the doors to the subterranean parking area whooshed open.

Toombs stepped forward quickly and opened the rear door to the vehicle. His small gesture of gallantry drew a look of surprise from Jack. "Don't go getting any ideas that I'm a gentleman or anything, kid. Gotta make sure everything's secure for a dangerous prisoner like you," he informed her with smirk.

Jack snorted at his sarcasm and then practically collapsed into the seat. Her breath was coming in deep shuddering gasps as though she had run a marathon instead of walking at a slow pace through a few hundred feet of interior passages. Toombs watched her for a moment. Then, satisfied that she was going to be okay, he slammed the door and climbed into the driver's seat.

* * *

Jack slumped sideways across the rear seat of the hover-car. The walk from her room to the garage had sapped all her reserves of energy both physical and mental. As Toombs drove them away from the facility, she knew it would haunt her dreams from now on. Her mind spun and drifted on waves of memory jarred loose by her exhausted state. 

She fought unsuccessfully to prevent tears from leaking from her eyes, but the flood of emotions was too strong. Instead, she turned her head and pressed her face against the coarse upholstery of the seat. Jack focused on breathing deeply and bringing herself back under control during the drive to their destination, which she assumed was the spaceport.

One thought rose out of the miasma of her mind, stronger than all the others: _I'm free! Free from that bitch's hellhole. I can handle anything as long as I'm away from there... even prison. I know I should be scared about being sent to a slam, but it can't be worse. Riddick survived the slam, and so can I. Just gotta learn to think him, and I'll make it. And Riddick escaped the slam. That means I can too. And when I do, Aereon is **mine**!_

* * *

Toombs parked next to the Purgatory in the shuttle port. He glanced in the back seat and discovered that Jack was sound asleep. She had drawn her legs up on the seat and tucked her arms protectively across her chest. He climbed out of the car and opened the back door without taking any special care to be quiet. The girl never stirred. 

"Guess I'm stuck carrying you after all," he remarked to her sleeping form.

He scooped her into his arms and was amazed at her slight weight. He had known just by looking at her that she had lost some mass during her time here; however, he hadn't realized just how much she'd lost. He had carried her before when they first grabbed her in New Mecca, and he now estimated that she had lost at least 15 to 20 pounds. The girl had been trim before, so the weight loss had to be pure muscle. He felt a flare of outrage at such readily apparent deterioration in someone he would have considered a worthy, albeit junior, addition to his crew, only a few short weeks ago.

Toombs closed the door with the arm that was under her legs and then tapped in the recall code on the keypad by the front door to signal the rental agency to retrieve the vehicle. He walked quickly across the tarmac to the shuttle and clicked his remote to open the door. Once inside, he settled Jack on the bench of an empty cryotube, but did not engage the stasis system. As a testament to her level of exhaustion, she didn't move the entire time.

_Those bastards in the slam are gonna eat this kid alive with the shape she's in. She won't last a week,_ he thought as he gazed down at her. The remorse and regret that he had pushed away earlier returned. This time, the emotions would not be denied.

"What the hell have I done?" he asked, his voice echoing slightly in the empty shuttle. No answer was forthcoming. After watching her sleep for a moment longer, Toombs made his way to the front of the shuttle and grimly piloted it back to the main ship.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

Kyra stood in the control room, watching the Purgatory glide onto the landing pad in the large shuttle bay. The magnetic docking clamps locked it in place and then the exterior bay doors slid closed. The artificial gravity engaged causing the shuttle to settle a bit and there was a faint hissing noise as air was pumped into the large cavern.

Kyra was impatient for the pressurization to complete so that she could approach the shuttle. She had been away from the ship, apprehending a bounty on Phaeton one of the moons orbiting the Helion system's only gas gian, Helion Two. It was the sort routine mission on which Toombs had deployed numerous teams while they waited in orbit around Helion Five for word from their employers about Riddick's location.

The pursuit had gone well and she had only been gone a couple of weeks, but she had missed Toombs more than she had expected. She was eagerly anticipating their reunion when she returned to find that Toombs was not on the ship. He had received a message from their employers and gone down to the surface of H-5. To her great frustration, he had left word that all returning crewmembers, including her, were to remain on the Undertaker until further notice.

After a moment, the light above the door to the shuttle bay flashed from red to green, indicating full atmospheric pressure. She pressed her hand to the lock on the door and it slid open soundlessly. She then strode across the bay and paused outside the hatch to the Purgatory with her hands behind her in the classic military 'at ease' posture. After a moment, the door yawned open to reveal Toombs, arms crossed leaning against the frame of the portal.

Kyra suppressed a grin and then snapped a smart salute. "Welcome back, Captain Toombs," she said formally. "Chief of Security Kyra hereby surrenders authority for the ship, sir."

"Damned impertinent women," Toombs grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"Impertinent?" she responded innocently. "Why, Toombs, there wasn't the least bit of impertinence in my greeting. It was all very formal and military-like."

She struggled to keep the innocent expression on her face as he stalked toward her. It was a game they played any time she had to surrender command to him. Normally, they would engage in a staring contest until one of them finally grinned and pulled the other into a kiss. At times, they had stood for several minutes in the battle of wills with each ultimately achieving an almost equal number of "victories" in the game.

Today, however, Toombs didn't stop for the customary stare down, but simply pulled her immediately into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. "Missed ya, baby," he rumbled as he held her against him.

She returned his embrace enthusiastically. Her senses were flooded with his nearness: his unique spicy scent that was better than any cologne, the rasp of his canvas flight jacket against her cheek, the feel of the taut muscles in his back beneath her hands.

Reluctantly, Kyra leaned back and surveyed his appearance. Behind his habitual mask of arrogant amusement, she noted signs of stress and annoyance that she had originally missed in her eagerness to see him. "Toombs… Gabriel, what's wrong?" she asked quietly as she searched his face for additional clues to his behavior.

"Those damned bastards," he growled and she felt his hands fist against her back.

She didn't need to ask which 'bastards' he meant. Only their unwelcome, robed employers had caused him this much irritation in recent memory. Instead, she ran her fingers along one sideburn and cupped his jaw with her hand: "Wanna talk about it?"

Toombs gave a noncommittal grunt and turned back toward the shuttle. Keeping one arm slung around her shoulders, he guided her into the Purgatory and gestured to an open cryotube with a flourish. Kyra immediately recognized the girl curled there and she looked up at Toombs in confusion for a moment.

"We got ourselves a wanted murderess here. Get to claim her bounty at Ursa Luna," he explained, with an expression of wry disgust, in answer to her unspoken question.

"Murderess…?" Kyra mumbled as she looked back to the girl with her brows furrowed. Then the significance of his words hit her: _The boy, the gun…_ She scowled darkly as she turned away. "Fuck!"

Anger constricted her throat, and she clenched her teeth as unbridled guilt swelled inside her. Kyra stood fuming for a moment before she found her voice. "They threatened the ship again, didn't they?" she asked without turning around. She could hear the bitterness in her own voice.

"Right on the money."

"Goddamnit! Why can't they just give us the info on Riddick and then leave us alone? Why the hell do they keep picking us to take care of their dirty laundry? Do they think we'll just roll over and do their bidding like some sort of trained animals? I'm sick of kowtowing to those people! I didn't get into this fucking business to ruin the lives of innocent teenagers!" Kyra paced as she ranted. She wanted to hit something—preferably one of those robed bastards who had put them in this position. No, better yet, she wanted to shoot someone. She felt a snarl twist her lips as she imagined the feel of pulling the trigger and then watching as the deep red of blood stained their dark robes.

Eventually, Kyra regained control of her emotions and her pacing slowed and then stopped. She turned back to Toombs who had been silently leaning against the shuttle doorframe during her diatribe. The big man's expression was grim and she knew that hers must match his. She took a deep breath and swallowed past the knot in her throat: "What are we gonna do?"

Toombs glanced over his shoulder at Jack's slumbering form and then turned back, meeting her gaze. She saw his jaw muscles twitch as he ground his teeth together. His entire stance proclaimed extreme frustration. Without him speaking, she knew his answer: they would take Jack to Ursa Luna Prison. She crossed back to where he stood and lightly placed her hands on his crossed arms. "We're responsible, Toombs. If it weren't for us, she wouldn't be in this position," she said with firm conviction. "You know what things are like in that slam. We can't just toss that poor kid to the wolves. We gotta do _something_ ."

Remembering his response when she had questioned taking the job, Kyra tensed expecting him to reprimand her. She felt a calm center of resolve settle within her: _Doesn't matter what he says. I'm gonna help that kid somehow. I gotta do something or I won't be able to live with myself. Even if it means losing my job here on the ship. Even if it means losing you, Toombs._ The final thought made her gut clench painfully, but she knew that it was a price she was prepared to pay no matter what pain it might cause her.

"You're right," he said so softly that she almost thought she had imagined it. He unfolded his arms and slid his hands up to her shoulders resting them there. Kyra placed her palms against his chest and looked at him searchingly. "You're one hundred percent right. And I think I have a plan. I just hope that it's enough."

"Plan, huh? Care to share?"

"You bet your ass. Go round up Mare, Twitch and Jericho. Meet me in my office in 20 minutes and I'll give you the breakdown."

Kyra smiled at him. "And what are you gonna be doing?"

"Gotta stow the kid somewhere until we hammer out what to do with her," he said as he crossed to the cryotube where Jack was still asleep. He picked her up and then walked back to Kyra. "Any suggestions?"

As she studied the girl, Kyra recalled the sincere empathy she had felt for Jack before they delivered her. She gently brushed a few strands of hair away from Jack's face and then raised her eyes to look at Toombs. She grinned at him with wry humor. "Well, I always did want a kid sister. Why don't you put her in my cabin?"

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"Fuck, Toombs, I spend half of my nights with you anyway. It ain't like she's gonna cramp my privacy."

Toombs chuckled. "I was actually wondering about any weapons you might have lying around. I may wanna help the kid, but I don't really plan to arm her with an automatic rifle."

Kyra felt her face color a bit at her oversight. She did a mental inventory of all the weapons she had stashed in her suite and then silently shook her head. _Okay, dumb idea. What is it about this kid that totally makes me forget every bit of my security training?_

"Cabin next to yours is still empty, right?" Toombs asked with a raffish grin.

"Yeah. Put her there. I don't know what I was thinking before," she said as they began walking toward the exit. "Real fucking professional, huh? Maybe you should consider another head of security." Toombs stepped sideways and brushed against her with his body. As she turned to look at him, he bent and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"Don't sweat it, baby. I know you meant well. This shit's gettin' to all of us," he said with a wink. "Now move your ass and get the rest of the team to my office. I wanna get this settled so we can break orbit and put as much space between us and this fucking system as possible. Helion has been a hell of a lot more trouble than it's worth."

He turned away from her at that point and proceeded down the corridor, which led to the crew quarters. As she watched him walk, she felt a surge of emotion for the big man. For a moment, she was almost overwhelmed with the urge to follow him and drag him into her cabin after he deposited Jack. She shook off the impulse and forced herself to take a second passageway to find the rest of the Undertaker's command team. _But just you wait till tonight, Gabriel Toombs. Once I get you alone, I'm gonna rock your world._

* * *

Jack's head moved rhythmically against someone's shoulder. Strong arms supported her around her back and under her legs. Memories of Riddick comforting her after she killed Chillingsworth flooded her mind. Without opening her eyes, she rested her palm against the man's well-muscled chest. She could feel the strong, regular beat of the heart within. Still half asleep, she instinctively snuggled her cheek against him and murmured, "Riddick…" 

"Not exactly," The snarky tone of the reply startled Jack fully awake.

_What the hell?_ she thought as she opened her eyes and looked up into the face of that merc, Toombs. She felt heat flood her cheeks and she pulled back from him. "Oh, it's you."

He smirked at her. "Actually, when you think about it, I guess I'm kinda the opposite of Riddick. Since he's an escaped mass murderer with a price on his head and I'm a nice, law-abiding bounty hunter."

"Well, you're definitely right about the opposites part," she said flatly as she pushed away from him.

Obviously amused by her response, he grinned down at her and winked.

"Put me down," she demanded. "I can walk just fine on my own."

"Sure, ya can," Toombs agreed congenially, but he made no move to release her.

"I don't need your help," she snipped, although she wasn't completely sure it was true. Her entire body felt leaden and sore. _How could I feel this bad just from walking to the car? Damn you, Aereon!_ she thought.

Jack suddenly realized that she couldn't remember anything after collapsing into the rear seat of the hover-car. She didn't even remember dreaming, which was odd because her sleep had been plagued by nightmares since Aereon had started dredging her mind.

"Where are we?" she queried Toombs, who still had not put her down.

"My ship," he replied with a genuine grin.

She heard a note of deep pride in his voice. Jack looked at her surroundings as his words registered. This wasn't some little shuttle or even a mid-sized freighter. This was a truly large vessel. Her estimation of Toombs went up a few notches as she realized that he wasn't the two-bit make-work mercenary that she'd thought him to be. The size and condition of this ship indicated a much larger organization.

He must have read her expression because he chuckled quietly and asked, "Impressed?"

"Well, it's bigger than I expected," she admitted. Toombs barked a laugh and she realized exactly what she had said. Jack felt her face grow hot.

"I get that a lot," he told her with a wicked grin that made her blush even more furiously.

"Yeah, you wish," Jack snapped, falling back on sarcasm to disguise her discomfort. Then, hoping to distract him before he could score any additional points in their verbal sparring match, she repeated her demand, "I said, put me down."

"You got it, kid," he said and then set her lightly on her feet. He steadied her briefly when her legs wobbled and then reached out and hit a keypad beside the door. "Besides, we're here."

The door opened to reveal a small but well-appointed cabin. It had a comfortable looking bunk, a desk with a computer terminal and a small food prep area. At the back of the cabin was a narrow door, which Jack presumed led to a bathroom of some sort. Toombs ushered her in and the door slid closed behind them.

Jack looked around the room in amazement and then confusion as he ran down the list of amenities. His attitude was brusque but pleasant as he pointed out that the computer system would give her access to the ship's library of books and vids. It was almost like he was giving instructions to a new crew member rather than to a prisoner. Jack furrowed her brow and forced her mind back to what he was saying.

"…you just need to pop the food packs in the unit here and push this button. It'll take care of the rest of the prep. I'll have someone take you to the mess hall later, but right now I've got a meeting to get to."

Toombs finished and then stood regarding her, obviously waiting for some sort of response. Jack frowned at him. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"This!" she said gesturing at the cabin. "Why don't you just stick me in the deep freeze and then thaw me out when you get me to the slam? Isn't that pretty standard procedure for prisoner transport?"

"You wanna go into cryo for the trip, kid?" he asked as he quirked an eyebrow and smirked at her.

"No."

"Then quit bitching, before I change my mind," he said with amusement tingeing his voice. One long stride carried him back to the door of the cabin. "I'm gonna lock you in, but someone will be by later to check on you. Don't bother trying to hack the lock. You won't be able to before someone shows up and if I find out you tried, I'll probably get pissed. Just kick back, eat something and get some more rest. Got that?"

She crossed her arms and stared at him as he paused in the doorway. She knew her expression was petulant, but she didn't care. She wanted to know what was going on and she was annoyed that he wasn't being more forthcoming.

"Got it, kid?"

"Yeah, I got it," she said with the irritation plain in her voice. "And don't call me 'kid'. My name is Jack."

Toombs snickered at her minor defiance. "Sure, _Jack_ . Whatever you say."

He stepped through the door and it shut behind him with a faint pneumatic hiss, leaving Jack on her own. She sat for a few moments studying the room. _Well, it's a damn sight better than where you were, Jack. Don't worry about what's coming. If there's anything you've learned is that things can change in an instant. Just take it one moment at a time,_ she told herself firmly.

Suddenly, her stomach rumbled, loudly. Jack pressed her hand against her abdomen and grinned at the sound. The thought occurred to her that she hadn't really _eaten_ anything since before she was abducted. The drugs from the interrogation sessions had left her weak and nauseous, so the techs had connected her to an intravenous nutrient solution, which had sustained her the entire time she was at the facility. She guessed that they had decided that was easier than risking a repeat of the spaghetti incident. Jack felt grim satisfaction at the thought of how she had used her last meal.

Her hunger pangs jarred her from her reflection with another growl. "Okay," she told her noisy midsection and then crossed to the food prep area. She dug through the selection of food packets until she found one that sounded reasonably edible. _Mmmmm… dehydrated chicken with dehydrated vegetables and noodles. My favorite,_ she thought. She placed it into the food prep unit, pressed the button and waited while it was reconstituted and heated.

After the unit dinged, she grabbed a spoon from the drawer beneath the prep unit and then curled up on the bed to satisfy her hunger. She had only eaten three quarters of it when she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

_Jack felt herself tumbling and then her feet hit with a muffled, metallic thump. There was a door in front of her, which she quickly recognized as the one from the fresher in Chillingsworth's shuttle. She had been here before many times. Her mind registered that she must be dreaming, but Jack didn't worry about that. This was the dream she had when she needed comfort or strength, both of which she definitely needed now. _

_Unfortunately, during the drug induced nightmares while she was at the facility, the dream and the strength it gave her had been elusive. Several times, she had found herself here only to find the compartment on the other side of the door empty or worse. She pressed her palm against the surface of the door, willing Riddick to be on the other side. After a moment, she took a deep breath and opened the door. _

_Relief flooded her as the portal slid open to reveal the cabin of the ship with Riddick lounging in the pilot's seatjust where he was supposed to be. Jack felt a broad smile split her face. He gave her his wry half-grin. With the light glinting from his quicksilver eyes, he said, "Hiya, kid. How ya been?"_

_Jack started across the cabin as she usually did in this dream. However, the dream took an unexpected turn and he met her halfway, engulfing her in a fierce hug when he reached her. She was momentarily dumbfounded. He had never done this before. But she recovered quickly and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back just as fiercely. "Oh, Riddick…" she breathed into his chest. Then her emotions welled up, forcing her to swallow around the sudden tightness in her throat and blink at the stinging sensation in her eyes._

"_I know, kid," he rumbled. He continued to hold her for a moment with one hand caressing her head. Jack noted absently that as always with this dream, her hair was stubble short just as it had been the last time she saw him and her body was that of her thirteen-year-old self. She had never been able to figure that out because in most of her dreams she looked her current age of sixteen. She decided to let the fact slip this time as well. She would ask him some other time. Right now, she just needed him to comfort her, to help her regain some of the strength the technicians had stolen._

"_God, I miss you right now, big guy," she said as she finally stepped away from him. "When you were around, even though everything was falling apart, stuff just seemed to turn out okay in the end. I don't think that's gonna happen this time."_

_Jack shuddered at the thought of what lay before her and an icy dread froze her heart. She'd been through a lot in her life, but she wasn't sure how she would manage to cope with prison._

_Riddick, obviously noting her physical reaction to the thoughts, furrowed his brow and placed his hands on her shoulders. His silver gaze held her fast. "What's wrong, Jack?"_

"_I'm going…" she paused and swallowed reflexively. It was hard to say it aloud, as though speaking the words would make her impending imprisonment more real. She steeled herself and forced the words out: "I'm going to prison, Riddick. They convicted me of Robby's murder. And those bastards from the lab turned me over to a merc to deliver me to slam."_

"_What the fuck?" he growled as he released her and took a small step backward. His look darkened and his breath came in short irritated bursts. "That isn't funny, Jack."_

_She'd kept a tight rein on her emotions, not wanting to break down and waste this fleeting time with him, even if it was a dream. Speaking Robby's name called up her grief. She felt it slam into her like an almost physical force. She blinked at the tears, which flooded her eyes. "I'm not joking, Riddick," she said. _

"_Dammit, Jack! You were supposed to stay with the holy man on New Mecca! You were supposed to have a nice, normal, **happy** life. Why the hell do you think I left so soon?" he thundered as he began pacing, punctuating each word with the thud of one of his feet. The small size of the cabin meant that he only took a couple of steps in each direction before he had to turn. He stopped suddenly and turned to face her. "You were supposed to be safe, away from me. So you wouldn't end up messed up like me."_

"_I'm sorry," she gasped as the tears began to slide down her face. _

_Riddick's entire demeanor changed as she began to cry. His expression was one of profound sadness and regret. She'd seen him look that way exactly once in their too-brief time together, and then only momentarily. He'd looked like that when he told them that Carolyn was gone. _

"_No, Jack. I'm sorry," he said softly as he stepped toward her and extended his hand. His eyes glittered even more brightly than usual in the dim cabin._

_Jack reached out to him, but just as their fingers brushed, the dream shattered and spun them apart. As he was pulled away from her, she heard him yell: "Jaaaaaaaaaack!"_

_

* * *

_"...Jack," Riddick shouted as he jerked awake. Then he went still, scanning the area for any sort of danger that the yell might have drawn to him. After a moment, he satisfied himself that all was well, and his mind turned to the dream he had awakened from. It wasn't the first time he'd been through this process. Lately, his sleep had been flooded with dreams, nightmares really, of the T2 planet and Jack in particular. 

Riddick's dreams of Jack were always very vivid, but this one had somehow been even more real than usual. Her scent practically clung in his nostrils even now and his hands tingled from where he had rubbed the roughness of her scalp to comfort her. He sat up and pushed off the thick layers of animal fur that he used as blankets. The frigid air hit his face instantly chilling the dampness on his cheeks. He quickly wiped the tears away before they could freeze there.

_Tears? What the fuck? I don't fucking cry._ He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his head. The after-effects of the dream were such that he was actually surprised when his hands encountered long matted ropes of hair instead of the smooth pate he had three years earlier. _Goddamned nightmares have me on edge._

"All right. Enough of this shit. Move your ass, Riddick," he told himself firmly. "Got shit to do today that don't involve sitting in bed pondering some fucking dream."

* * *

A/N: Once again, thank you so much to everyone who's sticking with me through this story. I am beyond happy at the warm response I've received from everyone, especially given that my story is a little Riddick lite. I hope the little cameo in this chap rings true to the big guy (let me know if it doesn't). 


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

"Jack, wake-up. You're dreaming. It's just a dream."

Jack jerked away from the hand that was gently shaking her shoulder. She gave a deep shuddering sigh as the remnants of the dream faded and then looked at the woman who had awakened her. She immediately recognized her as Kyra, the merc who worked with Toombs.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"Do what?" Kyra asked with a perplexed look.

"Wake me. Why did you wake me up?" Jack sat up and ran her hands through her hair. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

"You were having a nightmare. You were crying and you mumbled 'Riddick'. You shouldn't have to relive whatever that monster did to you if it can be helped," Kyra explained with a compassionate expression. She smiled and sat on the bunk beside Jack and rested her hand on Jack's knee. "You're safe here. No one is gonna hurt you on this ship."

The thought briefly occurred to Jack that the woman was just trying to be nice and that she meant well; however, the sense of loss she felt at being abruptly torn away from the dream-Riddick was so intense that Kyra's words only made her angry. She lashed out at the woman: "It just so happens that I was having the first _pleasant_ dream I've had since you and Toombs dumped me in that facility. What the HELL, gave you the idea that I was having a nightmare just because I mumbled Riddick's name? And where to do you get off calling _him_ a monster, merc?"

Jack could tell that her words had hit a nerve in the woman. Kyra drew back her hand and her expression changed from friendly to irritated in an instant. "No call to be rude. I guess you and I just have different sorts of pleasant dreams. I generally don't weep like I lost my best friend in mine."

"I did lose my best friend," Jack shot back. "Or had you forgotten?"

Kyra reeled back as though she'd been physically slapped. She stood and stepped away. Jack saw her take a deep shuddering breath. "I'm sorry," she said quietly and then turned back around. "For _everything_ ." She had expression of extreme remorse that melted Jack's anger.

Jack closed her eyes for a moment and focused on her own breathing while she centered her emotions. When she opened them, Kyra was watching her warily, waiting for Jack to make the next move. Jack shrugged and gave her a weak smile. "Me, too. I guess I'm kind of a bitch when I wake up too quickly."

Kyra grinned. "Don't worry about it. Can we maybe start over? I can even go out and come back in if it'll help. You could pretend that you'd been reading or watching a vid and we can forget about that whole waking-up fiasco."

Jack snickered. "That's okay. Consider it forgotten."

"Good. Cause this wasn't just a social visit. Toombs needs to see you. He has a proposal for you that I sincerely hope you'll accept."

Jack looked at her in confusion. "Proposal? Is that why he put me in here instead of in the deep freeze? Look, I'm not gonna be a merc. If that's his 'proposal', you can go back and tell him right now, that I said no."

"He ain't offering you a job. He can't, because... well... he just can't. Come listen to him before you make up your mind. Hey, if you don't like what he has to say, we can always stick you in cryo like any other prisoner."

Jack blinked at her warily. Kyra was being very nice, but that didn't change the fact that she was a merc. Jack wasn't sure if she could trust her. Johns had been reasonably nice too, in the beginning. But that didn't stop him from trying to sacrifice her to the creatures. _Of course, it ain't like I have a lotta choices here._

"Alright, I'll listen to what he has to say," she said firmly and then stood up.

* * *

The command meeting had gone very well. Gabe Toombs sat with his feet propped on his desk with a satisfied grin on his face while he waited for Kyra to retrieve their young captive. He had dispatched each of his team to their own duties as they prepped the ship to break orbit and begin their journey. 

As he waited, he clicked through the pages of a report on a data reader. Jericho had made good progress on tracing the corporate ties of his unwelcome employers. It was a daunting task given how well they hid their tracks; however, Jericho's talents for navigation and accounting served him well in this sort of search. Toombs was confident that the dark-skinned man would discover the root source of the funds, which seemed to flow almost too freely from their coffers. It simply wasn't possible to transfer that kind of funds without leaving some sort of trail. He wasn't yet sure how he would use that information, but he knew that it would be instrumental in giving him leverage against them. Leverage he needed to counteract the threat they held against his ship.

The door to his office chimed softly and Toombs tossed the reader onto his desk without moving his feet. "It's open."

The door opened admitting Kyra and Jack. Toombs grinned at the pair and gestured to the chairs on the other side of his desk. Kyra returned his grin and curled into one of the proffered seats with comfortable feline grace. Jack seated herself stiffly on the other chair and looked at him warily.

Toombs sat for a moment regarding her. The air of exhaustion around the young woman had eased slightly, but she was still a pale shadow of the girl she should be-the girl she had been before. But Toombs was experienced in evaluating people and this young woman shone with the fire of potential.

Toombs's grin widened as the girl began to fidget under his scrutiny. Finally, giving in to her impatience, she snapped at him: "Did you really have something to say to me? Or did you have Kyra bring me here just to stare at me and grin like a kid with a new toy?"

_Yup, definitely fiery,_ he thought as he glanced at Kyra. She returned his grin and winked in understanding.

"Oh, cut that shit out!" Jack said, rolling her eyes at their silent communication.

He suppressed a laugh and allowed his feet to drop to the deck with a thud, then stood and walked round the desk. He leaned against it and focused on the young woman. "Yes, I have something to say to you. Actually, it's more of an offer I'd like to make."

"Kyra told me you wanted to make me an offer," Jack cut in. Her chin was set defiantly as she locked her gaze with his. "I already told her, I'm not gonna go merc. So if that's your offer, you can forget it."

"Kid, you got the wrong idea about mercs. But that's a discussion for another day. No, I don't plan to offer you a job. What I plan to offer you is a chance."

Jack's defiant expression changed to one of confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"How much do you know about what it's like on the inside?" he queried, studying her face closely to gauge her response.

"Plenty," she said firmly. Toombs quirked an eyebrow at her skeptically, and she added, "Enough."

He grinned at her. "Good, then you know that those cons will eat you alive with the shape you're in. And you know that the guards will most likely let them. Shit, part of the bastards would probably help. What I propose is to help you get back into shape. To have Kyra train you so that you won't be such easy pickings for the predators on the inside."

Jack looked down at her hands and took several deep breaths. Toombs saw small muscles twitch in Jack's jaw as she ground her teeth. She blinked and raised her gaze back to his face. Her eyes flashed with anger and resolve. "I don't need your fucking help. I'll get through it... somehow. It's what I do. It's what I've always done. What does it matter to you, anyway? You're a merc. I'm a payday. You don't have to worry about what happens after you drop me off."

"Look, kid-"

"I told you not to call me that," she interrupted. When she continued, her voice was level and she didn't shout, but the pain in her eyes hit him with a force that anger couldn't have mustered. "You aren't my friend, Toombs. And you aren't my employer. And you aren't gonna be. You're my fucking captor and you're hauling my ass to prison because I was convicted of a murder that you _know_ I didn't commit. So why do you care what happens to me in that place? If I don't last a day, it's no skin off your ass. So why? Why are we even having this little interview? Why not just stick me in cryo like any other prisoner and forget about me?"

"Because I'm responsible, dammit!" he snarled. "Look, I can't bring that boy back. I can't even go to the authorities and tell 'em what I know-"

"Why not?" Jack interjected, her voice rising now as she stood and faced him. Her eyes flashed with green fire and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Why are you doing this to me? To save your own ass? Real, fucking noble! Yeah, right, I have the 'wrong idea about mercs'."

"Look, I'm backed as deeply into a corner as you are, _Jack_ ," he thundered back at her putting careful emphasis on her name. "It ain't just my ass I'm worried about! I have no choice but to deliver you to Ursa Luna."

"Oh, yeah. That's right. Aereon threatened your precious ship," Jack said mockingly. "What the hell could she possibly have on your ship? And even if she does have something, God forbid, that you not get to be the high and mighty 'Captain Toombs'. What does _my life_ matter compared to your own self-importance?"

Toombs felt guilty anger rising inside him with each word Jack tossed at him. _Fucking, ungrateful brat! This will teach me to try to help her,_ he thought as he took an involuntary step toward the source of the emotions that were eating at him. Before he could take a second step, Kyra stepped fluidly between them and raised her hands with one open palm facing each of them.

"All right, stop it!" she commanded. "This is pointless and it's getting us nowhere."

She looked at him and he could easily read her plea that he back off. Toombs turned away with a growl and rested his hands on the desktop as he brought his temper under control. This was not going the way he'd imagined it. He took deep breaths as Kyra spoke to Jack in a calm soothing voice.

"He's not just worried about what'll happen to him. He's worried about all the people who work on this ship. About what'll happen to them if Aereon uses the information she has."

"They're a bunch of mercs. Why should I get to be the sacrificial lamb to save their jobs?"

"It's not just their jobs, Jack," Kyra said softly, at which point Toombs turned around sharply. "It's their freedom, possibly even their... _our_ lives."

"Shut up, Kyra," he warned. The command team had all agreed that they would never speak of the circumstances surrounding Toombs's acquisition of the ship. The piracy and mutiny charge carried a mandatory prison term for anyone even associated with a purloined vessel and the death sentence for those who spearheaded any sort of mutinous activity.

Jack regarded him thoughtfully and Toombs could almost see the gears turning in her head as she processed this new bit of information. He knew from her file that she had been studying to be a spacer, so he figured she was familiar with the laws governing ship operation. She confirmed his suspicions with her next question. "You stole this ship?"

Toombs growled again. "Not exactly. You can't steal from the dead."

"Did you kill him? The owner, I mean? For his ship?" Jack asked reluctantly. He saw a minute flicker of fear in her expression.

Toombs glared at Kyra for having broached the subject. The woman shrugged. She nodded toward Jack, encouraging him to share the story. Toombs snorted. Kyra was right, what _did_ he have to lose?

"Her, actually," he corrected. "And no, I didn't kill her. _You_ did."

"What?" Jack gasped, shaking her head in instant denial. Toombs cocked an eyebrow at her but said nothing, waiting to see if she would figure it out. After a moment, he could tell by her expression that her confusion had dissolved into realization. "Chillingsworth."

"Right on the money," he confirmed with a nod of admiration that she had put it together as quickly as she did. His mouth twisted into a wry humorless smile as he related the story. "Originally, I figured Riddick was the one who shot the bitch. Imagine my surprise when I reviewed the security tapes and found out it was a kid.

"So you see, Jack. You _are_ involved in this. You have been from the start... you and Riddick. Way I figure it, Aereon's bunch traced Riddick to that crash and then to this ship. Possibly, one of the crew that I dropped was working for them. At any rate, they know who used to own this ship and they know what happened here. And I don't doubt that they will use it."

"But Chillingsworth was a monster. What she tried to do to Imam and me, it was..." she trailed off and an expression of disgust crossed her face.

"I kinda doubt the authorities will care overmuch about that," he informed her. "Technically, at that point, you were aiding and abetting a known, escaped felon. You are aware of the penalties for piracy and mutiny?"

The young woman had paled as he spoke and the words really sank in. It was an impressive feat, considering how pale she was from her time with Aereon. She met his gaze and nodded mutely in answer to his question.

"Then you know that you'd likely end up in an even worse position that you're already in, if the truth about this ship comes out? And that every person on this ship would also pay the price?"

He paused and she nodded again. Her jade-colored eyes were haunted and she slumped back in her chair.

"I'm sorry, Jack. You seem like a good kid and you don't deserve this shit," he said firmly. "If I thought there was another way out of this fucking mess, I'd take it. Truth is, I'm looking for it. But I haven't found one yet. So, yeah, you have to be the sacrificial lamb."

Kyra leaned forward and grasped Jack's hand in a gesture obviously meant to offer comfort. The girl tensed and Toombs expected her to jerk her hand away, but then she sighed deeply and squeezed Kyra's hand back. When she raised her eyes to meet his gaze, there was a quiet resolve in them. "I accept your offer," she said softly.


	21. Chapter Twentyone

**Chapter Twenty-one **

After Jack agreed to Toombs's offer, Kyra escorted her back to her cabin. The girl seemed worn out, emotionally if not physically.

"You gonna be all right?" she asked tentatively when they reached Jack's cabin. She keyed open the door and Jack stepped inside. Kyra held her hand in the path of the sliding portal and narrowed her eyes at the girl when she received no response. "Jack?"

Jack finally turned and gave Kyra a sad, tired smile. "I always am. It's what I do."

Kyra consulted the display of her watch. "Hey, it's 2200 ship's time. You get a good night's rest. We'll start working on getting you back into shape tomorrow morning. If you need anything, hit the call button on the comm unit. Someone will get you whatever you ask for... within reason. Okay?"

"Aye, aye," Jack acknowledged with a weak, sarcastic salute. "Look, I'll be fine. I really think I just need to sleep. To... you know... process everything. Then I'll be better."

"I'll be here at 0800 sharp," Kyra said with a vicious grin. "I'll warn you, I'm a bitch of a trainer. Sleep well, Jack."

Kyra moved her hand and allowed the door to slide shut. She hesitated a moment and then keyed the lock sequence. "It's not that I don't trust ya, kid," she whispered to the closed door. "But I know what I'd try in your place, so I don't trust ya. At least not yet. Maybe we can work on that."

She pressed her hand flat against the door for a moment and then walked swiftly to her own cabin and entered. As soon as she had Jack settled, Kyra's thoughts turned to Toombs. The time since he had returned to the ship had been hectic, and she hadn't found the opportunity to really welcome him home. Or to thank him for what he was doing for Jack.

A slow smile spread across her face she thought of the perfect "welcome back". She showered quickly and dressed in a thick, black robe made from Aquilan silk. She had purchased it on a whim while trailing a bounty through a market during her most recent mission. The robe bore an intricate design in red and black thread that depicted characters from some ancient Earth language. On the back, there was a depiction of some sort of half-canine, half-human creature. For some reason, the thing's bemused expression had reminded her of Toombs.

She pulled out a palm-sized device that she could use to monitor any of the security cameras in the ship. _Being chief of security definitely has its perks,_ she mused as she logged in and checked for crewmembers in the general vicinity of her cabin. When she found no one, she slipped out and cautiously made her way to one of the zero-g maintenance tunnels that crisscrossed the ship. Toombs frequently used this particular passage to get from his office to his cabin, because it was quicker than taking one of the lifts. Kyra also suspected that he simply enjoyed the brief weightlessness. When she reached the tunnel, she slipped into a dim alcove where she wouldn't be seen by any casual passers-by.

Scanning through the cameras, Kyra located Toombs on the bridge. He stood behind Jericho who was working at the navigator's station. She didn't have any audio capability on her handheld, so she could only guess that they were discussing the course that Toombs had asked Jericho to devise. The path would take them eventually to the Ursa Luna prison, but would take considerably longer than a least time direct jump.

The long path would give them time to help Jack prepare for the prison, but it also made good business sense. During the journey, they would be passing through several systems where they could make apprehensions to deliver to the prison along with Jack. The extra bounties would make the trip extremely profitable. However, Toombs's vicious grin as he explained the details had told her that the business sense of the course he had chosen was secondary to the defiance that it showed to Aereon.

On the handheld's screen, Toombs spoke and then leaned over and pointed to a spot on Jericho's display. The dark skinned navigator made several calculations and then grinned evilly at Toombs. _Hmm... that probably just added another month to the trip,_ she thought as she watched Toombs clap Jericho on the shoulder and then swagger away.

Kyra tracked him from camera to camera, as he left the bridge. He paused and looked into his office, but didn't bother entering. He then continued on a path that would eventually lead to the access tunnel in which she was waiting.

As a pair of crewmen passed through the tunnel, she ducked further back and hid the glow of the device screen. From their conversation, she judged they were on their way to the rec room, but fortunately, neither seemed to notice her in the shadows of her alcove. When she looked back down, Toombs had passed out of the range of the camera she currently had displayed. She quickly locked down the ends of her tunnel so that she would have no more interruptions and then began searching for her quarry.

"Damn," she said softly, scanning the cameras adjacent to where she had lost track of him. _Please let him not have gotten into the lift._ Her plan was to stall the lift if necessary so that he was forced to use the maintenance corridor, but it wouldn't work if he had already gotten inside.

After a moment, she heaved a sigh of relief when she located him on camera. He had paused to chat with Mare, and Kyra made a mental note to do something nice for the older woman at some point in the future. Kyra watched them talk for a few moments and then Toombs started walking away. Apparently, his final remark had incensed Mare because she playfully kicked at his conveniently presented rear end. Toombs tossed his head back in laughter and then gave her a jaunty salute, which Mare answered with a different and much ruder hand gesture. Kyra grinned as she watched the exchange.

Kyra was delighted when he passed the lift without a glance and continued on to the entrance to her access corridor. She quickly released the lock so that he could enter unhindered. He stepped through and oriented himself in the null-g environment, then pushed off expertly with one foot, 'swimming' along the corridor. Kyra quickly reengaged the locks before anyone else could enter the corridor and disabled the security cameras along its length. She then turned off the handheld and tucked it into a corner of the alcove where it would be safe. Once Toombs had passed by, she edged slowly out of the alcove and floated out to the middle of the passage behind him where she waited for him to notice her with a languid smile on her face.

When he reached the end of the corridor, he literally bumped into the door, which had not opened when he expected it to. "What the fuck?" he mumbled, as he pressed his hand against the locking mechanism. When there was still no response, he began turning around. "Damned faulty equipment. Gonna kick Twitch's ass if he don't get this..."

He broke off as his eyes met hers and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His eyes roved over her, lingering on bits of skin that were left exposed by her robe.

"Hey, handsome, _come_ here often?" she asked, carefully accenting her words so that he had no doubt as to her meaning.

Toombs kicked away from the door and sailed toward her. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, stoking the fire that had been simmering inside her since he had returned to the ship that afternoon. When he released her mouth, he chuckled and completed the ancient pick-up line she'd quoted to him: "Would _you_ like to?"

"Oh, God... You have no idea," she purred as she ran her tongue along the curve of his jaw and then teased his earlobe with her teeth. He pulled her against him with a growl and kissed her again. His hands tightened on her hips and his hardened groin pressed against her.

"Baby, I think I have some idea."

He traced a fiery path down her neck and he paused at the base of her neck gently sucking the sensitive V of her collarbone. Kyra threaded her hands through his hair and allowed her head to loll back as he began trailing kisses toward the cleavage exposed by the neck of her robe.

"This is a really great outfit," he rumbled against her chest. The stubble of his beard tickled against her skin when he spoke, drawing a soft gasp from her.

"Glad you like it," she purred back. She slid her hands over his shoulders and then along his arms until she reached his wrists. She grasped his hands and moved them to the belt of the robe, which was tied around her waist. Toombs grinned at her and began slowly untying the loose knot. When he finished, he pushed the belt ends aside where they floated gently in the null gravity. He slid his hand inside the robe and dragged his knuckles across her bare stomach before he reached to cup her behind underneath the robe. The motion caused the edges to drift open, revealing the bare skin underneath.

Toombs's gaze raked down her body causing her nipples to tighten into hard peaks in anticipation. He grinned at her: "I think it may be my new favorite. Now let's see about getting it the hell off of you!"

Kyra chuckled but her humor transformed into a moan of pleasure as he covered one peak with his mouth and began laving it with his tongue. He bit her nipple and ran his teeth back and forth across it, causing her to gasp and arch against him. Her motion caused them to begin spinning very slowly in the weightless environment. His hands caressed her body, sending tremors of sensation along her skin.

Wanting to touch him as well, Kyra slid her hands to his waist and tugged his shirt free. She slipped her hands under his shirt, trailing her nails along the skin of his back. He growled softly against her breast, released her nipple and kissed her hard. His tongue thrust into her mouth, stoking along the sensitive skin of her inner cheek. Kyra kissed him back hungrily, meeting his tongue thrust for thrust.

Kyra wrapped her legs around him. "I want you _now_ , Gabriel Toombs." She sank her fingernails into his back to punctuate her statement.

"Oh, I missed you, baby," he rumbled softly as he disengaged her limbs so that he could shove the robe off her shoulders. He made a soft noise of satisfaction as his eyes swept over her now bare form. Kyra grinned at him and then reached for the waist of this shirt and he lifted his arms so that she could strip it over his head. Her gaze lingered briefly on his well-muscled chest, and then she turned her attention to the fastenings on his pants. His clothing soon joined her robe to drift lazily along the corridor.

Kyra ran her hands up his arms and tangled her fingers into his hair. Her core clenched in anticipation as she pulled him toward her. She reveled in the feel of his hands as he skimmed them down to grasp her waist. Her feet slid around to catch on his thighs and she felt him press teasingly against her. She tensed her feet against him urging him forward and he complied by pressing her waist down, sheathing himself inside her.

She gasped. They both paused a moment before began a slow rhythm that gradually increased in pace. Kyra matched his rhythm and felt the heat spread from her inner core to suffuse all her limbs. Her face flushed with heat and she clenched her hands on his shoulders as she arched against him. Ragged gasps tore from her throat as the sensation grew to a crescendo.

He buried his face against her neck and sank his teeth into the sensitive skin above her collarbone as he thrust into her. The brief flash of pain from his bite sent her crashing over the edge. A scream of pleasure erupted from her and her body rocked against his. As she shuddered around him, she felt a tremor pass through him and he surged against with a wordless growl of pure pleasure.

* * *

They floated, limbs entwined, for several minutes before Toombs chuckled. Kyra leaned back slightly so that she could see his face and quirked an eyebrow in a silent question. He grinned mischievously at her. "You know, if this is the sort of welcome I can expect, I'm gonna have to send you out on missions more often," he teased. 

Kyra felt her face split into an answering grin. "Fuck, Toombs. It ain't like this is the first time we've had sex in a corridor."

He laughed again and gestured to her discarded robe, which had floated about halfway down the passage. "Yeah, but it's the first time you bought special clothes for it."

Kyra snickered and then snuggled her head back against him. She stayed that way for several more minutes lulled by his regular heartbeat, just enjoying being close to him. For the first time since they had captured Jack, she felt truly at peace. "You know, we're doing a good thing..."

"Huh?" he asked, jerking at her voice and then blinking drowsily at her.

Kyra dug her fingers into his side. "You can't fall asleep here, you big lug."

"I'm the Captain, I can do whatever the hell I want," he informed her with a grin. "But you were saying something about good things? I like good things, so tell me more."

"What we're doing for the girl. It's _right_ , you know? It makes me feel a little better."

"Ahhh, baby. You didn't have anything to feel bad about to begin with," he said and placed his fingers against her lips before she could voice the protest that formed instantly. "It was my call, my responsibility. But, yeah, I know what you mean. I'm glad we're helping the kid, too. And I know you're gonna do a great job at training her."

"Speaking of which, I have an early morning tomorrow." She pushed away from him, grabbed a set of handhold and propelled herself down the passage to retrieve her robe. "And besides, we should probably move along before the crew starts pounding down the doors."

Toombs grumbled about a captain being able to do what he damn well pleased in his maintenance corridors for as long as he damn well pleased; however, he followed her lead and gathered his clothing, dressing quickly. Kyra retrieved her handheld and checked the cameras outside the exit to the tunnel. When the path was clear, she keyed the release code and the two made their way to his cabin.

* * *

Jack was awake and dressed very early according to the chrono on her desk. The past twelve weeks had been painfully grueling as she worked to regain the strength and tone she had lost while she was Aereon's "guest". She actually felt like she was in better shape than before her abduction. She was still about ten pounds lighter than before, but she thought that it was due to increased muscle tone rather than any lingering effects from her interrogation. 

_It's no wonder with the 'drill sergeant' training me,_ she thought wryly. The memory of Kyra yelling at her and the several other crewmembers that she had been training with flitted through her mind. Outside of the training arena, Jack was surprised at how fond she had become of the mercenary woman. Jack had even forgiven Kyra for her part in the abduction. However, once they stepped onto the sparring mats, the sisterly, young woman disappeared, leaving a demanding taskmaster in her place.

Jack had not been very involved in sports while on Helion Prime, having decided to focus on intellectual pursuits instead. The martial arts training had been more for the meditation techniques than for the physical aspects. She was surprised at how much she was enjoying the release that the focused training provided. Additionally, her fighting skill had increased considerably.

She grinned at her reflection in the mirror unable to keep excitement from bubbling up inside her. Kyra had promised that they would start weapons' training today. Visions of Riddick with his shiv danced tantalizingly through her mind. Her grin broadened as she imagined herself handling a knife so smoothly that it seemed like an extension of her own body rather than a separate weapon. "Gonna make you proud, big guy. I promise."

She was drawn out of her fantasy by a loud buzz from her door. Jack stepped out of her tiny bathroom and crossed her cabin in two strides. She waved her hand at the sensor. The door slid open immediately to reveal Kyra on the other side with her hand raised to hit the buzzer again. "Ready," Jack said brightly.

The corner of Kyra's mouth twitched with humor as she looked suspiciously at Jack. "You're certainly eager this morning."

"Who, me?" Jack asked innocently falling into stride beside Kyra as they made their way toward the gym.

"Yeah, you. Don't try that innocent, little girl act on me. It ain't gonna work," Kyra countered and poked Jack in the ribs. "Now why the hell are you so fucking bouncy this morning?"

A giggle escaped Jack's throat. She glanced sideways at Kyra whose expression made her grin stretch even wider. "You said we'd start weapons training today."

"That's it?" Kyra asked with obvious incredulity. At Jack's nod, Kyra shook her head and gave a short laugh. "Good God, I've created a monster."

_I don't think you created me,_ Jack thought, recalling her recent daydream. Her fondness for and loyalty to Riddick was an ongoing sticking point between the two women. Jack had tried to explain that his record was an incomplete picture of the man, but Kyra couldn't see past the portrait painted by his history. Jack didn't mention her other fighting influence and instead shrugged one shoulder noncommittally.

A glance sideways showed her that Kyra's eyes narrowed even more as she regarded Jack, but the woman didn't push the issue. Jack was grateful because she didn't want to spoil her pleasant mood with another argument about Riddick.

When they reached the gym, Jack broke away from Kyra to begin her warm-up routine. Once she had stretched, Jack began sparring with an electronic dummy. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting to the promised weapons training. _I wonder if she'll stick to close in stuff, or maybe do some firearms training. I guess there are advantages to knowing both._ She threw a few more punches and kicks at the dummy as she pondered the possibilities.

"Your form's off," a voice said from behind her.

Startled, Jack overcompensated on a sidekick that missed the dummy entirely and sent her crashing into it with uncharacteristic gracelessness. Jack untangled herself from the dummy and looked up to where Toombs was bent double with laughter. She stood and glared at him, which served to make him laugh harder. Jack half expected him to roll around on the mat in his glee over her consternation.

He was still laughing when Kyra walked up. She looked from Toombs to Jack with an expression of confusion. "What's so funny?"

"Jack was just showing me some of the moves you've been teaching her," he said as a wicked grin stretched across his face. "Go on, kid, do that last one again. It's a real kick in the ass."

Jack resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at the grinning mercenary and instead turned to Kyra with a sheepish shrug. "I guess I was a little distracted while I was warming up. I missed the damn dummy and then slipped. Apparently, Captain Comedy here found it amusing."

"It was fuckin' priceless," he agreed, nodding his head.

"Don't sweat it, Jack," Kyra consoled her. The woman draped a friendly arm around Jack's shoulders while she spoke in a loud whisper. "Ask me later about the first time 'Captain Comedy' and I sparred together"

Toombs stopped laughing. "Kyra, you wouldn't..."

The two women looked at him and then exchanged a conspiratorial smile. "You'd be _amazed_ at how distracted he gets from a simple thing like a black sports bra..."

"Now that's a story, I've gotta hear," Jack said with a snicker as she allowed Kyra to lead her toward the main sparring mat.

"Woman, you are pure evil. I shoulda known you females would stick together," Toombs grumbled as he trailed after them. Jack rolled her eyes and Kyra's grin broadened.

She lead Jack to a footlocker that she had set beside the practice mat. Jack felt the excitement bubble inside her as she anticipated what sort of interesting weaponry might be inside. When Kyra opened it, Jack got a tempting glance at an impressive array of blades and such. However, Kyra withdrew what looked to be a stick about 30 cm long. Jack frowned in confusion. She had at least expected a knife of some sort.

"A stick?"

"No," Kyra said as she pressed a button with her thumb and the stick snapped to triple its length, "...a riot baton."

"Kyra, it's still a fucking stick," Jack countered with disgust. "I thought you were gonna teach me how to fight with a _real_ weapon, like a shiv or a gun or something. Not a stick."

"Jack, this _is_ a real weapon. You've obviously never seen one of these babies in action."

"Sure, I have. Johns had one when we were on the planet. He wailed on Riddick with it a couple of times. But he used a shotgun when he meant business."

"William Johns was punk who didn't have a clue how to use a baton correctly," Toombs interjected. "Trust me, kid, this is definitely a 'real' weapon. And if you know how to use it, you can do a hell of a lot of damage with it. Plus, when you're on the inside, you're better off staying the hell away from blades and you, damn sure, don't wanna pick up a firearm. That's the quickest way possible to get dead."

Toombs serious tone caught Jack off guard. She looked from him to Kyra, who nodded in agreement. "Okay..."

"But with a blunt weapon... a 'stick' if you will," he continued with a wicked smile and a chuckle. "Hell, guards and cons both'll overlook something like that. At least, till it's too late."

"And, it's a hell of a lot easier to build a makeshift baton than it is to put an edge on a shiv," Kyra said as she proffered the baton to Jack.

"That makes sense," Jack agreed, accepting it and testing its weight. "But a stick?"

"Just give it a week. If you still feel the same way, I'll teach you how to use a knife."

"Deal!" Jack said with a nod.

* * *

A/N: I'm almost out of completed chapters, so my posting speed may slow down some. However, I will write and post as quickly as possible. All the positive feedback I've received has really inspired me to redouble my efforts to complete this story. Take care all! 


	22. Chapter Twentytwo

**Chapter Twenty-two **

The man in front of her—appropriately named Cutter—wove an intricate pattern with his long curved knife. Jack realized that it was a ploy meant to distract her and instead focused on her opponent's other body language. She held the baton loosely but firmly in her right hand and circled warily with Cutter, intent on finding an opening in his defense.

The guy was a good fighter, but Jack suspected that his arrogant confidence in his own skill might just give her the chance she needed to get in a disarm shot. Once she separated him from his knife, she would have the upper hand and should be able to finish the battle quickly.

Suddenly, Cutter dropped his shoulder a fraction of an inch and then lunged forward with the knife. Jack spotted his twitch before the lunge: precisely, the opening that she was waiting for. At the last moment, she neatly sidestepped. Cutter was unable to stop the momentum of his attack. Jack lashed out, striking the pressure point in his elbow with her baton causing his hand to go slack. With her left hand, she grabbed the knife from him and then quickly stepped back.

"Fuck," Cutter snarled, the confidence in his face diminishing.

Jack smiled sweetly without dropping her guard. She was tempted to flutter her eyelashes at him, but she resisted the temptation, thinking that would be pushing things a bit too far. Instead, she pressed her attack.

Jack had a hunch that Cutter would consider the blade now occupying her left hand to be a greater threat than the baton, even though she had already proven the baton's effectiveness. Following her hunch, she feinted with the knife.

As she had expected, her adversary's eyes shifted to her left hand at which point she exploded forward with the baton. Her first blow struck his left knee knocking him slightly off balance. Next, she landed a hard, backhand blow to his right shoulder. She then pivoted on her left foot and kicked him solidly in the chest toppling the man onto his back. Jack moved quickly forward and placed her foot on his chest with the tip of his own blade pressed against his neck.

A thrill of triumph went through her at the fear that sprang to life in the helpless man's eyes. "Surrender," she ordered.

"I yield," he whispered. Jack pressed the knife more firmly against his neck. He winced visibly and spoke more loudly, "I yield."

Jack released Cutter as Kyra walked up. He stood and Jack returned his knife. "No hard feelings?" she asked meeting his eyes.

The man exhaled roughly and then shook his head. "Naw. I ain't gonna hold it against ya. You beat me fair and square. It's my own fault for underestimating you and that damned baton."

"Respect the stick," Jack said, and her mind flashed back to her own initial attitude about the baton. With a grin, she glanced over her shoulder at Kyra who grinned back at her. She turned back to Cutter and extended her hand. "It was a good fight. Thanks for working out with me."

"You're a good fighter, kid," he said and shook her hand. "And non-lethal's a good skill to know. Most marks are worth more if ya can bring 'em in alive. That stick'll serve ya well in this business. I'm guessing your first mission'll be after we make the drop at the prison. For what it's worth, if ya need a partner, I got your back."

Jack realized the man meant to compliment her, but she couldn't stop the sudden wave of irritation and dread that swept through her at Cutter's comment. "Thanks," she said tersely. She released his hand and turned to face Kyra before he could interpret her expression as anything more than 'rookie nerves'.

The other woman upon noting the expression on Jack's face, quickly stepped in to cover for her. "Hit the showers, Jack. Captain wants to talk to you."

"Thanks," Jack silently mouthed and then jogged lightly toward the women's locker room, entering without a backward glance.

Jack turned on the water so that it would get hot while she undressed. After stripping, she stepped under the scalding spray. Toombs had chosen to use real water showers here instead of the sonic units that were in all the crew quarters. Jack was never more thankful for the luxury. She stood letting the needles of water tingle over her skin while she breathed deeply and tried to regain her composure.

The cover story was that she was Kyra's cousin who had signed on as a rookie merc. For weeks, she had simply worked on honing her skills, never allowing herself to think about the what the future held. Cutter's casual mention of the prison had caught Jack completely off guard and had brought home the fact that the journey was almost over.

Jack leaned her head against the cool, brushed steel wall of the shower stall as a wave of sadness swept over her. To her surprise, she discovered that the emotion wasn't just for the life she had left behind on Helion Prime, but also for the life she had begun to build since coming on board the ship.

_Good God, I'm gonna miss these people,_ she realized abruptly, as images of the past few months thrust themselves unbidden into her mind. A single hot tear traced a path down her cheek. Jack scrubbed at her face. _What the hell am I doing crying over a bunch of no-good mercs, who stripped me away from my home and murdered Rob? They aren't friends; they're captors. A golden cage is still a fucking CAGE!_

At that, Jack's logical side spoke up. _That's not fair. They didn't have to help me. It's okay to care for them. Maybe they aren't friends, exactly, but they aren't enemies either. It's okay to miss them._

"Hey Jack! You tryin' to use up all the hot water? You do know it's unlimited cause we use waste reactor heat right?" Kyra's voice called from the locker room, dragging Jack from her reverie. "So quit whatever your doing in there and get your ass out here. I wasn't kidding when I said Toombs wants to talk to you."

Jack shoved herself away from the wall, quickly finished washing, and then hit the lever which turned off the water. She briskly dried herself, then wrapped the towel around her chest.

Kyra was lying down on one of the benches with her left leg raised onto the seat and her right dangling on the floor. She rolled her head toward Jack and grinned as she exited the shower area. "Damn, Jack. I was beginning to think you'd drowned."

"How long was I in there?"

Kyra glanced at her chrono. "Almost half an hour. What the hell were you doing?"

"Sorry. I must have lost track of time," Jack said with a shrug.

Kyra rolled into a sitting position and narrowed her eyes. "You okay?"

Jack was unable to suppress a sigh. "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's—"

"…what I do." Kyra chorused the last bit with her.

"Yeah, so you've said. But if you ever do need to talk, I have ears. And I'm willing to listen."

Jack swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. "Thanks. But you aren't gonna be around forever. I'll be alright."

"Whatever you say," Kyra agreed quietly. They lapsed into silence, regarding one another. After a moment, Kyra shook off the grim mood that had settled over both women. The woman grinned and the expression seemed only a bit forced. "Now get a move on. Toombs has already buzzed my comm-link twice to ask where we are. If he does it once more, I'm gonna have to shove it up his ass. You don't wanna be responsible for that, now do you?"

"Wellll… as tempting as that is, I suppose not," Jack replied with a half smile, which helped further dissipate the tension between them.

* * *

The door to his office chimed just as Toombs was reaching for his comm-link to call Kyra again. "Enter," he barked. 

The door slid open, admitting Jack and Kyra. Jack's wet hair, pulled into a ponytail, gave testament that they had come from the locker rooms. An expression of confusion crossed Jack's face as she looked around the room. Her gaze paused briefly on Mare, Jericho and Twitch who had arrived earlier.

"'Bout damn time!" Toombs snapped as the pair claimed the remaining seats in front of his desk. "I was wondering if you two had forgotten how to get here and if maybe I needed to send someone with a map."

"Quit yer bitchin', Toombs," Kyra snipped back at him. "I told you we'd be here as soon as Jack finished up, and we are."

He was working on a good comeback, when Jack spoke up. "What's going on here? If you're having some sort of executive meeting, what the hell am I doing here?"

"Yeah, well, there's a couple of things I needed to talk to you about," Toombs glanced at his crew and then turned his full attention to the young woman, who was frowning suspiciously at him. He picked up hardcopy communiqué from his desk and passed it to her. "We received that this morning."

Jack's eyes scanned the message. Troubled emotions flickered briefly over her face. "They've found Riddick."

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"And you're going after him? Gonna try to bring him in?"

He nodded, still watching her face. He saw small muscles in her jaw tense and her eyes glittered. Then she took control of herself, and an expressionless calm settled over her features.

"Well, I guess you gotta do, what you gotta do," she said coldly. "You said there were a couple of things you needed to talk to me about… What else?"

Toombs scratched idly at his sideburn as he studied the girl, weighing her reaction or lack thereof. He looked round the room at his team. Kyra shifted in her chair, obviously uncomfortable. Twitch fidgeted and refused to meet his gaze. Jericho stood still, his expression, as usual, betraying no emotion. Mare, ever his mentor, met his gaze evenly and nodded slightly to encourage him.

"Ya see, Jack," he began picking his words carefully. "I don't know how closely you've been paying attention to time"

"We're almost there aren't we? To the prison?"

"Yeah, we are."

"How much longer?" she asked.

Toombs was impressed. Somehow, she managed to keep any emotion from slipping into her voice, almost as though she were asking about something completely mundane like the time for dinner. _Girl's made of iron_, he mused as he studied her for a moment longer before turning to Jericho. "What's your estimate?"

"ETA is 105 standard hours. We'll drop to n-space in 87. Then we just have the trip in-system," the navigator stated flatly, perfectly matching Jack's lack of emotion.

"I appreciate the update, Captain Toombs," Jack said without breaking her icy calm. "Is there anything I need to do to prepare?"

"Dammit, kid! Cut that 'Captain' shit out," Toombs snapped at her as he rose from his desk and paced around it. "You know damned well I don't wanna do this. You've become like part of the family in the past few months."

Obvious skepticism finally broke through the girl's emotional shield. "You have, Jack," Mare said quietly before Toombs could speak. "We've _all_ become very fond of you. I'd like to think the feeling is a least somewhat mutual."

The girl turned to face Mare. "And what if it is? What if I do care about you people and this ship? What does that matter? How does it change anything? You fly off to continue your misbegotten tradeyou know, the one that got me into this situation. And I still go to prison to spend the rest of my life locked away for a crime I didn't commit. How I _feel_ , about any of you, is irrelevant."

The bitterness in her voice struck Toombs. Her hands shook slightly, telling him just how slender was the thread of her control. He squatted in front of her and locked his eyes with hers. "You ain't gonna be there for the rest of your life. That's why I called you here."

"What?"

"We're gonna get ya out, Jack. I promise. I just gotta take care of a couple things, and then we'll get ya out of that dump!"

* * *

"You're fucking with me," Jack said but she felt a spark of hope flicker to life in her soul. She looked round the room seeking confirmation from those assembled there. She received nods of reassurance from each of them before, finally, returning her gaze to Toombs. He was grinning smugly at her, obviously very satisfied with himself. "Okay, so you aren't. That just leaves one question… Why?" 

"Why, what?" he asked with a puzzled expression. She saw him glance at Kyra who shrugged.

"Why would you do this for me?" Jack elaborated, unable to tamp down the suspicion that rose in her even though she desperately wanted to take his offer at face value. "I've been around mercs before. 'The creed is greed.' There's no money in busting me outta that slam. And it's likely to get you in a major pile of trouble. So, why? What's the angle?"

"That's not fair, Jack," Kyra said in a hurt voice from beside her, but Jack kept stayed focused on Toombs.

"Why would a bunch of mercs be willing to put their own asses on the line for me? And if you are, then why dump me here in the first place?"

Anger clouded his features and Toombs stood and strode away from her. Jack looked around the room. The hurt expressions she received tore at her heart, but they didn't completely dispel the lingering fear that lay there. Her gaze came to rest on Toombs. The uncharacteristic waves of anger coming from him caused her to lean back a bit in her chair to distance herself from his fury.

"Did you just miss that whole 'we care about you, you're part of the family' bullshit? Or the fact that we spent the past six months training your ass so you won't be eaten alive?" he thundered. "What other why do you need?"

"What about the ship? What about the crew? Isn't that why you're bringing me here in the first place? Seems like, busting me out is a hell of a lot more likely to hurt them than simply not bringing me in."

"Jack, you're right," Kyra said. Her voice called Jack's attention away from Toombs's angry presence. The woman had knelt beside her and now took Jack's hand. "That's what he meant when he said he had things to take care of."

"Yeah, Jack. We're gonna get ya out real soon," Twitch piped up from where he sat atop a small metal cabinet. When she looked at him, he grinned furtively and dropped his eyes to his hands, which were fiddling incessantly with a small case. "Your strong and smart. You can handle a little while in the joint till we can get back here, right?"

She glanced around the room. Even Jericho nodded at her and she saw a flash of white against his dark skin as he grinned momentarily. Mare leaned toward her and rested her hand on Jack's shoulder. "We took a vote, my dear. We're going to go turn the crew over and then we'll be back for you."

"What do you mean 'turn the crew over'?" Jack asked, finally allowing the hope to blossom inside her.

"This is a _merc_ crew, Jack," Kyra said in explanation. "Most of 'em don't have any desire to be in on a prison bust."

"Yeah, and…" Jack looked from one face to the next, finally ending with Toombs. His anger seemed to have dissipated as quickly as it arose, and he was now smirking at her.

"And… there's crews and then there's _crews_ ," he said vaguely and waggled his eyebrows.

"Will you quit beating around the bush and tell me what the hell you're talking about?"

"Well, you see, we're considering a change of occupation, that will require a different sort of crew than we've had before," Kyra said with amusement tingeing her voice.

Jack kept her eyes on Toombs who had crossed his arms over his chest with a smug expression. "I always thought I'd make a _damn_ fine pirate if I hadn't gotten into this whole merc business," he said grinning. "What do you think, Jack? Reckon I'll be successful walking the other side of the whole 'legal' line?"

"You'd do that for me?" she asked with shock welling up in her.

In answer, Toombs just grinned and shrugged as though it was no big deal. Mare squeezed Jack's shoulder and she turned to face the woman.

"To some degree, yes, Jack. We are doing this for you. You've become important to all of us. But we're also doing it for ourselves.

"I've been in this business a very long time. Hell, I showed that big lug over there the ropes," Mare said indicating Toombs with a jerk of her head. She paused for a moment with a wistful expression. When she continued, Jack could hear the rancor in her voice. "Things have changed. The people working in the business aren't like they used to be. The _system_ isn't what it use to be either. I won't bore you with all the nasty details. You're probably familiar with some of them already. Believe me when I say, it's time to get out."

Jack sat still for a moment trying to process everything. A voice inside her head insisted that something was wrong; she had missed some important detail. Then she realized. She raised her eyes back to Toombs. She could hear the emotion in her own voice: "What about Riddick?"

* * *

A/N: Sorry I didn't update sooner. It's been crazy busy for me at work for the past week or so. Thanks so much for all your support and kind words. They are the most wonderful reward I can imagine for my efforts. 


	23. Chapter Twentythree

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long hiatus in updating. I let myself get distracted by work and other stuff. At any rate, I'll try to do better, and perhaps I just might succeed. grin

**Chapter Twenty-three **

"Don't pick at it," Kyra chided from where she lounged on the bunk in Jack's cabin, waiting for Jack to finish changing. Jack, who had been selecting an outfit, was currently wearing only a sports bra and tights. She looked down and then glanced back up sheepishly. She had been nervously fiddling with the small incision below her sternum where the ship's medic had inserted the tracking device.

"It itches," she said with a shrug. She smoothed her fingers over the tape, holding the edges of the wound together. "You really think this transponder thing Twitch built will help you find me? I read about UL prison. It's huge; practically the entire moon is prison. And they have frequency jammers to prevent this sort of thing."

While Jack pulled on a pair of worn cargo pants, Kyra's face broke into any evil grin and she waggled her eyebrows. "They can't jam _all_ the frequencies. Gotta leave some open for guard radios and such. I asked Twitch about that myself while Doc was wiring you up. It scans for frequencies with traffic and then piggybacks on existing transmissions. But the signal is encrypted so it registers as minor static on the radios. All we have to do when we come to get ya, is monitor the traffic for the signal, then follow it to you."

"So why hasn't anyone else done something like this to escape?" The shirt she was pulling over her head muffled Jack's voice slightly.

Kyra shrugged as Jack's head popped through the shirt's neck. "I dunno. Maybe they don't have friends who care about them. Or maybe because Twitch is a fucking genius when it comes to these kinds of gadgets. Or, hell, maybe someone else's done it and the prison officials just kept it quiet. Prisons are big business, Jack. They don't tend to advertise their screw-ups."

_Friends who care about them enough to change their entire lives,_ Jack thought. She looked down as emotion swelled in her. _Dammit, I'm gettin' all misty again._ Scrubbing at her eyes, she took a deep breath and then looked seriously at Kyra. "Thank you, for all you're doing for me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"Jack, you don't have to thank me," Kyra said firmly, as she looked away from Jack. "If it hadn't been for us, you wouldn't be in this situation. You'd still be a normal kid on Helion Prime going to school with your friend who... what was his name?"

"Rob... Rob Harris," Jack was surprised that Kyra had brought up the subject. As close as the two women had become, it was an area that they had seemed to avoid by mutual consent. "And he was more than a friend."

"I know. And it's my fault he's dead," she confessed quietly and then paused. Jack realized her expression must have conveyed her confusion at Kyra's proclamation. When she continued, her words came in a rush tumbling over one another as she tried to explain. "I'm the security chief; I should have known that Sanchez was a hype. But I didn't. I wasn't thorough enough or attentive enough or... I don't know... The details don't matter, it's still my fault."

Jack sat on the bunk beside Kyra and pulled the woman into a hug. "You're wrong, you can't know what would have happened with anyone else you took along. And even if you and Toombs hadn't taken the job, that bitch Aereon woulda just sent someone else after me. Then more people I love might've ended up hurt or dead as well. Like Imam, Lajjun and Ziza."

"You gotta believe that if I had known he used, I'd never have let him onboard. Much less let him on that mission. I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so, so sorry." Jack felt a wetness on her shoulder and Kyra's arms tightened around her as she began to weep. The remorse pouring from the woman was an almost physical force.

"When I realized Rob was dead, I wanted to blame you... to hate you and Toombs. I almost succeeded, too. But then I got to know you and you're like a sister or something... Oh, Kyra, it wasn't your fault. Sanchez did what he did on his own and he's already paid for his crime," Jack said, as she gently rocked the other woman. "Kyra, I forgave you a long time ago... please forgive yourself."

Jack sat holding her friend for a long time as she wept. It was the first time she'd seen the strong merc woman break down and for Jack, it was a testament to the strength of the friendship that had grown between them, as though the final barrier had fallen. Jack's only regret was that they'd been able to break down the walls sooner. _Oh well, we'll have plenty of time once they take care of the ship and Aereon's people. And then get me out of prison of course. _

When her tears finally spent themselves, Kyra pushed back from her and grasped Jack by the shoulders. "Regardless of what you say or whether you blame me, you lost one person you loved because of me. I promise, I won't let that happen again. We gotta go after Riddick to give Mare and Jericho time to take care of the ship without tipping our hand to Aereon. But I promise I'll look out for him for you, if it's at all within my power."

Even in light of the recent breakthrough in their friendship, Jack was stunned. "I thought you didn't approve of how I feel about Riddick."

Kyra shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I trust you and your intuitions. You love him and say he's a good man--"

"He is! He saved me from those creatures when the Hunter-Gratzer crashed and then again from Chillingsworth. But that's not all of it. Kyra, he has a good soul. He's not an evil man."

"That's good to know, but this is for you, Jack. I can't truly make up for my mistakes, but I can do this for you."

"I don't know what to say... Just knowing that you are looking out for him means so much. I... Thank you," Jack said and hugged her again. When she released Kyra, Jack smirked at her, wanting to lighten the mood for what time she had left until Toombs summoned them. "Of course, now you're gonna have to figure out a way to keep Toombs and Riddick from killing each other. God help you. You sure you don't wanna recant?"

Kyra finally smiled. "No, I promised you and I don't mean to go back on it. Don't worry. I'll handle Toombs."

"Like I said, God help you," Jack said and rolled her eyes.

The chime of Kyra's comm interrupted them. She flipped it open and hit a button. "Kyra here. What is it?"

Toombs voice came from the small device, tinny but ominous. "We're almost done offloading. You two about ready?"

Kyra looked up questioningly. Jack's blood ran cold. _This is it,_ Jack thought as a wave of panic rose up freezing her in place staring at the tiny electronic device in Kyra's hand.

"Jack?" Kyra said with concern lacing her voice.

Jack took a deep breath and forced her eyes away from the comm unit. "I'm ready. As ready as I'm gonna be."

* * *

Icy wind howled through the network of chasms creating a keening whine that sounded almost human. Behind a large boulder, Riddick crouched, waiting for the appearance of one of the creatures, which made their home in the caves that dotted the canyon walls. The animals reminded Riddick of large fur covered pigs and they were one of the better things he'd found to eat on UV-6. 

The sound of grunting from the entrance of the chasm heralded the arrival of a pair of the fur-pigs. Unaware of the threat awaiting them, they trotted complacently toward Riddick's hiding place. He tensed and double-checked his grip on the short spear he wielded.

As the pigs drew abreast of him, Riddick lunged upward and launched the spear at the larger of the pari. It impacted just behind the pig's front leg, causing it to stumble and emit a pained squeal. He rushed from his hiding place, startling the second pig. With a frightened squeal, it broke into a run toward the opening to its den. He let it go and turned his attention to the injured animal, which was struggling to rise. He threw his weight against the shaft of the spear, driving the point into the pig's heart. The pig gave a final squeal and then collapsed to the ground. A thin trickle of dark purple blood ran from the wound in its flank, staining the blue white snow dark.

Riddick retrieved his spear and stored it in its sling across his back. He then pulled a length of leather rope from his pack and lashed one end to the pig's legs. From the other end, he quickly fashioned a rudimentary harness, into which he slipped his arms. He leaned into the harness and began towing his kill across the frozen wasteland toward the cave where he lived.

His footfalls made hollows thuds as he ran, his long stride carrying him swiftly across the plain. While he ran, he constantly scanned back and forth for signs of danger. The vigilance was merited given the size and rather aggressive tendencies of certain denizens of the planet that weren't yet convinced that Riddick was the top of the food chain.

Just as he got within a few meters of the mouth of his cave, a sharp, piercing pain knifed through his head without warning. He gasped in surprise and staggered, but managed to remain on his feet. Riddick pressed the heel of his hand against his temple, and staggered the rest of the way into his cave. He slipped out of the harness and gave the pig carcass a hard kick, sending it sliding toward the corner of his cave where he stored his meat.

Fighting waves of nausea, he made his way to the mound of furs he used as a bed and slumped there. He took stock of his body and tried to find a reason for the sudden illness. He could find no cause.

"Riddick..."

He thought he heard _her_ whisper. Still battling the pain and nausea, he looked around, to find the speaker, but he was alone.

"Jack?" he asked the empty cave, feeling more than a little foolish. A rushing sound filled his ears and he was hit with an intense sensation of vertigo. His vision swam and the phantom of a woman danced in the sparkle of light coming through the cave entry for a few seconds before the dissipating. He couldn't make out her features, but she was young, slender but fit with dark hair.

Then, as abruptly as it had started, the pain stopped. His vision cleared and his stomach settled. Within a few seconds, he felt completely normal, as though nothing amiss had occurred.

"What the fuck is going on?" he growled. His only answer was the sound of the wind whistling quietly around the entry to the cave.

* * *

The guards carried her limp form to her cell and dumped Jack unceremoniously on the bunk. She lay still, willing down nausea that had plagued her since the prison doctor had administered his first injection. She had vomited twice during the delousing treatment, which had earned her several blasts from a high-pressure hose. Her skin felt scalded and her head was pounding; she assumed the injections had brought on the headache along with the nausea. 

One of the guards, whose nametag proclaimed him 'Jenson', taunted her from behind the closed cell door. "Nasty, little Boyfriend Slayer all locked up. You won't be killin' any more boyfriends from in there, now will ya, bitch? Women like you are all alike, coax a guy in an' then 'fore he knows it ya screw 'im over. Well, ya won't be doin' that no more, neither." He was a tall, blond man in his early twenties who would have been attractive were it not for the sneer that twisted his features. His accent had a lilt to it known as Cockney for some reason lost to the vagaries of history.

Jack ignored him. She had gotten quite good at it over the past couple of hours during which he had kept up a running commentary on her many flaws and evils. She didn't even feel the twinge of loss that she normally felt when anyone even obliquely mentioned Rob. Jenson had tormented her for so long that his derision had lost its edge. Additionally, her own physical misery was too complete at that moment for it to register.

As the guard continued his tirade, Jack heard footsteps approach and a husky feminine voice ordered, "Fuck off, Jenson. The girl is ignoring you. Can't you tell when a woman isn't listening to you? Here's a clue... it's anytime you're talking."

Jack flopped weakly over on her bunk so she could see the newcomer. The voice belonged to a petite woman probably in her thirties dressed in prison dungarees that matched Jack's own new set of clothing. She had an average, pretty face with a narrow sharp nose and wide full mouth, but the feature, which instantly captured Jack's attention, was the woman's short, blunt-cut hair. It was a myriad of unnatural hues: red, gold, orange, there even seemed to be strands of blue. When the woman moved, the unique color gave the illusion that her head was on fire.

The guard paled visibly and took a step away from the woman. "Fuck off, yerself. What're you doin' outta yer cell? You know it's lockdown when we bring in a new prisoner."

"I was curious to see the new meat. You wanna make something of, Jenson?" she asked smoothly with a hint of menace in her voice.

"You don' intimidate me, witch!"

"Oh really, is that why you're cowering and running like a whipped little dog?"

"I ain't runnin'. I gotta get to me next shift," he said as he took another step away. He turned and tossed a parting shot at Jack. "I'll be watchin' you, bitch. Just you slip up and I'll show you what sorta punishment we got round here for murderous sluts like you."

"Git, puppy!" the woman snapped and stamped her foot in the direction of the cowed guard.

He promptly hurried down the corridor and Jack heard the door to the cellblock open and then shut with a clang. A moment later, there was a click from the lock on Jack's cell door. The woman slid the door open and stepped through.

Jack had managed to struggle into a sitting position, but she was in no condition to fight anyone at that point. She studied the flame haired woman warily, hoping that she would be friendly at least until Jack was strong enough to defend herself.

The woman crossed her arms and studied Jack for a moment. Then she smiled slowly and extended her hand. "I'm Fia."

Jack accepted the extended hand and squeezed gently in greeting. "Jack," she responded.

"It's a pleasure, Jack," Fia drawled. She released Jack's hand and gestured to the bunk beside her. Jack nodded and the woman seated herself carefully on the edge of the mattress. She looked closely at Jack once more, and then her eyes crinkled and her lips twitched as though she was laughing at some inner joke to which Jack was not privy. "So, sugar, what are you in for?"

"Didn't you hear _Jenson_ ?" Jack replied, unable to keep the bitterness completely out of her voice. "I'm _in_ for murdering my boyfriend, Rob, along with a couple of mercs."

Fia snickered. "Triple murder... not bad. But I wasn't asking what they wrote on the sentencing papers. So why are you _really_ here?"

"Quadruple murder, actually. And why would I be in here for anything other than what is written on the papers?"

"This cellblock is for politicals, not common criminals. Even _quadruple_ murderesses would normally be put in the general prison," Fia said matter-of-factly.

Jack narrowed her eyes at the woman, reluctant to admit much to someone she had only known for a few minutes, especially when that someone was a convict. "Why was Jenson so afraid of you?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me your story?" Fia asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Why do you want to know?"

Fia shrugged. "Sometimes knowledge is power and power is important in here. And trust me, sugar, you could use a friend in here. This part of the prison might not be as rough as the G-P, but it _is_ a prison."


	24. Chapter Twentyfour

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"So a story for a story. Is that the trade?" Jack asked, still measuring Fia's responses, but unable to restrain her curiosity over the guard's fear.

"That's about the size of it," Fia said with her eyes twinkling in obvious amusement.

"You go first."

Fia chuckled. "Works for me, but it's easier to explain if I show you something first." She stood and plucked a small piece of paper from the waistband of her pants where it had been stored as though she anticipated this sort of exchange. She crumpled the paper, held it in the palm of her hand and then stared at it.

_She's staring at paper. Great. The woman's a lunatic. That's why she's in here. Political prisoner, my ass!_ Jack thought after a moment of the woman not moving. She began to fidget. She was considering telling the woman to forget it and leave when she noticed that the temperature in the tiny cell had risen a few degrees. At that moment, a thin tendril of smoke rose from the paper and then the wad spontaneously burst into flame.

Jack jumped away from Fia who kept the burning paper cupped in the palm of her hand while she ran the fingers of her other hand over it as though petting a small animal. "Beautiful, simply beautiful," Fia purred as she stroked the flame.

"What are you?" Jack asked and then she remembered something she had read while researching Aereon during her time on Toombs's ship. _Four types of elementals... earth, air, water and fire. Aereon is an air and this woman must be fire._

"You're one of those fucking elementals," she snarled as she stood and moved toward the rear of the cell, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and Fia.

"I see you've encountered my kind before," Fia said as she looked away from the flame still dancing in her hand with obvious reluctance.

"Your _kind_ is why I'm here," Jack bit out as she felt the anger growing within her.

"Really? Then we have something in common," Fia said with a distinct edge of bitterness in her voice. She looked back to the fire in her palm and then abruptly closed her hand into a fist, snuffing the flames. "My kind is why I'm here, as well."

"Sure..." Jack said with sarcasm dripping from the word. "I researched Elementals. Your kind is tight... present a unified front to the universe while working to 'help' everyone with their treasured diplomacy. So why would they put one of theirs in a shithole prison like Slam City?"

"Trust me, sugar. Not all of us are part of the tightness you read about. And a little known fact is that the Elementals hold a controlling interest in several prisons, including this one. So when they want someone tucked out of the way, they manage it just fine. Especially, when the person is 'one of theirs'."

The bitterness rolled off Fia like a physical presence, piquing Jack's curiosity. She still wasn't sure she trusted the woman, but she was curious enough to hear Fia's story that she was willing to trade her own tale, or part of it at least, for the privilege.

"So, how long have you been here?" Jack asked quietly after a moment.

Fia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As she did, the tension and bitterness seemed ebb away. "Fifteen years," she said with a wry grin. "I wasn't much older than you when they put me here."

"Why?"

"Oh, yes. That is the question isn't it. And I'll answer it... I'll answer all your questions, but I'm not gonna do it on an empty stomach," she said. She stood and stepped out of the cell motioning for Jack to follow. Jack was surprised to note that the woman was shorter by at least fifteen centimeters than Jack's own height of 175 cm. Fia's dynamic personality had given the impression of a much larger person than the petite woman that Jack now found herself walking beside.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to give you the grand tour, sugar," Fia drawled and led her from the cell.

* * *

The large holo-chamber in the Ursa Luna prison administration building echoed with Kyra's and Toombs's footsteps as they entered it. Toombs glanced over his shoulder at the door, which sealed behind them. He met Kyra's eyes, gave her a nod of reassurance, and then returned his attention to the center of the chamber as the lights began to dim. 

He had received the message from Aereon's people with information on the location of Riddick, but they had requested this holo-meeting as well to "discuss the details". He and Kyra remained behind for the meeting, sending the ship with Mare, Jericho and Twitch so that they could switch the crew as planned. Just the idea of them wanting a meeting made him decidedly uneasy.

Momentarily, the holo image of a robed figure sitting in a chair appeared before them. Toombs felt his back stiffen involuntarily at the superior attitude he felt emanating from the figure even though the meeting wasn't live.

"Welcome, Mr. Toombs," the robed person said in a rich voice that he recognized as belonging to Aereon. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

_I'm gettin' real sick of this shit,_ he thought as he suppressed a growl of frustration. "What do you want?"

"We have need of a service, Mr. Toombs, and we believe you may be able to assist us. It is in regard to the Riddick contract."

"Look, lady, just cut to the goddamned chase already," Toombs snapped. "You're wasting my time with all this crap. We're headed to UV after as soon as we leave here. Rest of my team is ready to leave in the morning. Coulda left tonight if you hadn't insisted on this 'essential' meeting. So out with it."

Toombs heard Kyra step forward, and he glanced back at her. Her stony expression spoke volumes about how she felt about the situation. He winked at her before turning back to face Aereon again.

"We believe it would be beneficial to have someone on the inside of the detention facility... someone who can get close to Riddick to make sure that we do not lose track of him when he escapes."

"Look, you said in your message that you want me to take him to Crematoria after I bring him to you on Helion Prime. Ain't nobody breaks out of Crematoria. Not even Riddick."

Aereon chuckled and Toombs felt his hackles rise at the supercilious sound. "Our indications are that he is _quite_ capable of escape from the facility. In fact, if he does not, we will be most disappointed."

"Whatever you say. So what's yer plan? Put someone on the inside?" Toombs asked with as much disdain as he could muster. "Riddick ain't a fool... and he ain't your normal con. He ain't gonna just trust some strange con he hooks up with in a hell-hole like that."

"We have information that there is indeed on convict whom he will trust," she said smoothly.

"No way. I've read his sheet," Toombs said forcefully, trying to ignore his growing dread that he knew exactly who she was referring to. "He's a lone wolf. He never hooked up with any other cons while he was in slam."

"Oh, this is not someone he met while he was in prison, Mr. Toombs," she purred.

"The girl... Jack," he said as the meaning of her words hit him. _No, not Jack. That poor kid's been through too much as is; they can't send her to Crematoria. I can't let them do that to her._

"Indeed, Mr. Toombs," she confirmed. "He had a very strong bond with the girl and our indications are that he is quite likely to connect with her again."

"It won't work," he said carefully modulating his voice to avoid showing the relief he felt as he discovered an answer to the problem. "She wouldn't help you when you had me bring her in before. She ain't gonna help you now. Besides, the kid ain't on Crematoria. She's right here in Ursa Luna where you told me to put her."

Aereon laughed at his statement. It was a beautiful sound, but it made Toombs's hair stand on end. "Mr. Toombs, we have no intention of trusting young Miss Page with this assignment. She is completely loyal to Riddick and would never agree to assist us. However, Riddick has not seen the girl in a very long time. It will be almost five years by the time all the pieces are in place. She has changed a great deal from the child he once knew... matured, if you will."

Toombs felt his unease redouble as the hood shifted slightly in Kyra's direction and then turned back toward him. The woman continued speaking in her melodious tones: "We believe it might be possible to plant an individual who _is_ loyal to us inside Crematoria. Someone similar enough in age to be a convincing substitute..." She paused dramatically and Toombs began shaking his head before she finished her thought. "Someone like your companion, here."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" Toombs roared at her as the bubble of dread burst within him. "You're asking too much this time, bitch! You ain't sending Kyra into that godforsaken place!"

He felt Kyra step close and place a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't sure whether she meant to restrain him or reassure him, but he welcomed her presence regardless.

"Must we go through this again?" Aereon asked as though speaking to a slow child. "You know that we will not hesitate to use the information we have if you do not fulfill our wishes."

"Fuck the ship!" he thundered as the last bit of patience with their games crumbled within him. "I got by fine without it before; I'll get by fine without it again. You're. Not. Getting. Kyra."

"Mr. Toombs, please be reasonable. This will be a very temporary situation; I assure you," she said. The holo image shimmered slightly as she stood and glided forward a few feet. Her long elegant hands appeared from the sleeves of her robe as she gestured entreatingly. "You already have the information we have on the location of Mr. Riddick. You stated yourself that you will be leaving to retrieve him as soon as we have finished our business.

"Your associate would only need to spend a very short time in the facility. If things go as planned, you will have captured Riddick by the time she is placed inside the prison. Once we finish with him on Helion, you will deliver him to Crematoria. Then she can perform the task we require: get close to him and alert us to his location after he escapes."

"And if he doesn't escape? What then? How long you fucks planning on keeping her holed up in that hell?" Toombs demanded. He clenched his fists against the indignant anger that continued to build within him. He wanted to hit something, but the object of his ire was light-years out of his reach.

"You have my vow, Mr. Toombs. She will not be there more than one local week after you drop off Riddick. If he has not escaped by that time, we will retrieve her."

"No deal," he ground out and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

"Toombs," Kyra said quietly from his left side as she squeezed his shoulder. "Let me do this."

"Fuck it, Kyra. The ship's not that important," he said firmly as he turned to face her.

He was surprised when she stepped close so that the holo cameras could not pick her up then mouthed, 'Not for the ship. For Jack.'

Toombs felt a wave of indecision sweep over him. She was right, they would need the ship if they were going to have a chance at breaking Jack out. Plus, if Aereon turned them in, they would most likely be imprisoned themselves or at the least delayed so that the young woman would spend a much longer time in the Ursa Luna prison.

Kyra's eyes were locked onto his face as he struggled with himself. Then she said aloud, "Please, Toombs. I can't let them take the _ship_ from you. It means too much to _everyone_ ."

"Fucking _ship_ has been nothing but trouble since I picked her up," he growled.

"That doesn't make you love her any less," she replied quietly. "Let me do this. I'll be fine. I can handle a couple months in a prison. You know I can."

"All right," he said and sighed heavily. He turned back and glared at the robed woman, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, she's willing, how do we do this? I ain't leaving until I hear the entire plan."

* * *

The small cafeteria, which served the political wing of Ursa Luna Prison was filled with the hum of people eating when Fia led Jack through the stainless steel double doors that separated it from the cellblock. 

"And finally, we have 'the pit'. I hope you aren't a picky eater, 'cause if you are you picked the wrong place to be incarcerated, sugar."

Jack snickered at the woman's wry humor. Fia had kept a running commentary on the merits, or lack thereof, of the facility as she led Jack on a tour.

Jack was amazed at the Fia's ability to put her at ease. Also, she had been surprised at how deferential many of the other inmates had been to the woman. She suspected that allying herself with the petite woman might be a wise move.

After they collected plates of some sort of unidentifiable stew, they found an unoccupied table at the edge of the dining hall. Jack took an experimental bite of the stew and grimaced at the flavor. Her stomach gave a warning roll, so Jack pushed the plate aside and instead focused on the cup of weak coffee that she had gotten as well.

Fia grinned and continued eating, barely chewing each of the bites she shoveled into her mouth. "Like I said, food doesn't get much better than this. The trick is to eat quick so you don't taste it."

Jack shook her head. "No, I can handle the flavor. It's bad but I've had worse. I think it's the drugs from earlier. I'll be alright once they're outta my system."

Jack continued sipping her coffee while Fia finished her stew. As the woman finished her last bite, Jack raised her eyebrows expectantly and said, "So, your story? You ready to tell it now that your stomach's full?"

"Sure, I'm ready. But I want to remind you of our deal," Fia said. She looked levelly at Jack and her eyes flashed in warning. Jack sensed the underlying darkness in the woman, which she masked so well with her charming exterior. "A story for a story... Once you've heard my tale, you tell me yours. Otherwise you'll be reneging on our deal and that would make me rather cranky. Trust me, sugar, I'm really no fun if I'm cranky. Plus, it's not wise to betray a deal in here."

Jack nodded. "Only as good as your word. I get it."

"I think you're going to do just fine in here," Fia said, quietly. "But as to my story, it's a simple tale of corruption and control. Have you ever heard the ancient Earth myth of Daedalus?"

Jack shook her head, wondering where the woman was going with this line of thought.

"Well, Daedalus was a great architect and inventor who built a labyrinth for his king. Once the labyrinth was complete, the king did not want anyone who knew its secrets to be free to reveal them so he tossed poor Daedalus in prison."

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?"

"Ah, naturally, I am the Daedalus in my tale. I had a knack for security... for creating labyrinthine structures in computer systems, if you will. I worked on the Quintessan planetary system. Once I'd finished, they were well pleased with my work. So well pleased that they decided to store me away here so that I wouldn't be able to reveal the ins and outs of the system."

"They put you in prison just because you did your job well?" Jack asked, knowing her face reflected her shock. "Why would they do that instead of having you keep working?"

"Well, it could be because they found out I had a somewhat more liberal leaning than the government tended to prefer. They wanted to safeguard the contents of their labyrinth not just its structure. They didn't trust me not to reveal some of the less desirable inner workings of their government, so they put me here."

"Isn't that kinda stupid on their part? I mean, you could tell anyone in here anything you know. Hell, you're telling me and you've only known me an hour or so."

Fia's expression turned dark and Jack could literally feel the anger roll off her in the form of a burst of heat that raised the temperature at the table by several degrees. "They kept me in solitary for the first five years I was here. By the time they released me here, I'm sure they'd made sufficient changes that they felt I was no longer a threat."

Jack sat quietly studying Fia and weighing her story. The woman's eyes were distant. Jack felt another wave of heat roll toward her as Fia battled her own inner demons. After a moment, Fia rolled her head around and took a deep breath. She seemed to force her emotions back under control. An image of the access door to an ore smelting furnace slamming shut, separating a dangerous inferno, flashed through Jack's mind. The woman's ability to control her emotions - her anger and obvious hatred - was most impressive.

Eventually, Fia focused on Jack with a pleasant expression. "Your turn."

* * *

Author's Note: Once again, y'all have my sincere gratitude for all your wonderful feedback.I can't tellyou how glad it makes my heart that itis so well received.I also really appreciate your patience with my slow writing pace. Thanks for sticking with me and with the story.


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